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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629915">I Will Not Ask Where You Came From, and Neither Will You.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stressedoutstars/pseuds/stressedoutstars'>stressedoutstars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Age Regression/De-Aging, Anxious Toby Smith | Tubbo, BAMF Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), BAMF Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), BAMF Toby Smith | Tubbo, Bullying, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Dadza, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dogs, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Found Family, Gen, Good Parent Wilbur Soot, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I DO NOT BELIEVE MOTHER AND FATHER INNIT ARE LIKE THIS IRL, IRL Fic, Implied ADHD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kristin is SBI's Mom, Learning Disabilities, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Steven Universe Future, Mentions of homelessness, Mumza - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Wilbur Soot, Phil Watson Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Philza Minecraft is a Boomer, Platonic Relationships, Protective Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Sorry Samsung Refrigerator, Steven Universe Future Spoilers, Steven Universe References, Techno will throw hands, Technoblade Has ADHD (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Has Braided Hair (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Needs a Hug, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit's dogs, WE LOVE MOTHER AND FATHER INNIT, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Tommyinnit's Parent, but not really, cause i can, dadbur, if you ship sbi then fuck you, implied PTSD, implied neurodivergency, just a bit of texting, kind of texting fic?, philza is the voice of reason, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, supposed to be a oneshot but i got hyperfixated, unless its kristen and philza then pog, whoopsie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:16:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stressedoutstars/pseuds/stressedoutstars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy quickly threw sweater after sweater into the bag, trying to be as quick as possible. (Why was he packing again?) He’d packed everything but his food and water already, he just needed something to keep him warm. It’d be cold on the streets, after all.<br/>‘Oh, right,’ he thinks. ‘That’s why.’ He’s homeless. And for what? Nothing.<br/>Tommy’s hand ghosted up to the mottling bruise on his lower jaw, wondering if this was what it was like to be completely out of control of his life.<br/>_<br/>_<br/>Title is from Like Real People Do by Hozier.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Phil Watson/His Wife, Phil Watson/Kristin Watson, Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2217</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. When she was just a girl, she expected the world.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OH BOY HERE WE GO. This is my first fic on this website, I have finally graduated from Wattpad :D.<br/>All chapter titles will be from songs!<br/>Remember to check to tags for your triggers!<br/>Love u all &lt;3<br/>-Toby</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy packs his bags, off towards the unknown.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>YOOOOOOOO FIRST CHAPTER POG!!<br/>This chapter title is from Paradise from Coldplay. This song means a lot to me so I HAD to include it. I hope you Enjoy!<br/>EDIT: Sorry if it keeps rapidly updating, I'm trying to figure out how AO3 works! I also realized I used my draft and not my final version... T.T So, updated version, POG!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy quickly threw sweater after sweater into his black bag, trying to be as quick as possible. <strike>(Why was he packing again?)</strike> He’d packed everything but his food and water already; he just needed something to keep him warm. It’d be cold on the streets, after all.</p><p><em>‘Oh, right,’</em> he thinks.<em> ‘That’s why.’</em> He’s homeless. And for what? Nothing.</p><p>Tommy had tried so hard to make his parents proud. He tried his hardest to bring his D's at least up to a C- in most classes, with the exception of band and history, which he had A’s in. He tried to control his restlessness, but he couldn’t pay attention; It was so hard for him to care for what he did not like.</p><p>He also tried to avoid those assholes who kept picking fights with him, going as far as to eating lunch in the bathroom, taking up stalls in hopes of them not finding him. But today, they found him. The dickheads found Tommy sitting on the toilet, eating his sandwich as quietly as possible. Then they taunted and teased, and he burned with shame, and that burning turned to a fury, and that fury turned into yelling, and- well… at least he could say he didn’t throw the first punch.</p><p>He lost, of course. A 4 vs. 1, even if he is 6’3, <em>is</em> unfair. Yet, none of the teachers nor his parents even considered that the boys that fought him had an unfair advantage. Yeah, he roughed them up a little bit, but they did a number on him.</p><p>
  <em>Tommy’s hand ghosted up to the mottling bruise on his lower jaw, wondering if this was what it was like to be completely out of control of his life. </em>
</p><p>They obviously didn't understand, as shown by the week’s suspension and him packing his bags. <em>“He’s a Problem Child,”</em> Mrs. Myers, his bitch of a Principal, had told his mother. <em>“He antagonized these poor boys. He needs to clean up his attitude before he gets expelled.” </em></p><p><strong>Bullshit.</strong> Tommy was beaten into the tiles of the bathroom floor before he could do any proper damage to the other four boys.</p><p>Tommy zipped up the backpack after throwing a mustard yellow sweater into it. The soft sweater was so inviting, so familiar, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. It was nostalgic, but not quite. Then it hit him; it was similar that stupid sweater Wilbur loves- shit. Wilbur knew of his issues with his attention span and getting into "fights." Wilbur was rooting for him and now this happens? He was going to be so disappointed in him.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck. </em>
</p><p>But that’s a problem for Future Tommy, cause Current Tommy fairly sure if he keeps stalling his dad will throw him out forcibly. So, Tommy ran out of his room, grabbing his refillable water bottle, using the tap to fill it up. After tightening the cap on the bottle he hastily made his way over to the pantry, swiping the box of shitty chocolate chip granola bars that only he ate and ran. He ran out of his childhood home, past the white picket fences of his neighborhood, away from his family, who practically disowned him tonight. He ran, and he never looked back. He didn’t need to look back on all he lost.</p><p>Tonight, Tommy, his parent’s once Pride and Joy turned Certified Problem Child became Tommy, a child alone in a world that was never built for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YOOOOOO THANK YOU FOR FINISHING THE FIC!! May you please leave some kudos and maybe a comment? This is just the first of many chapters :D I hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. And I don't want the world to see me. (Cause I don't think that they'd understand.)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy rides the tube, wondering how his life will go from here.</p><p>Somewhere in Brighton, a man doesn't know he's about to get a call that'll change his life forever.</p><p>Title is from Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 2, POG!!! I just wanted to say thank you all so much for the insane amount of love and support for this fic! I never thought my first fanfic on ao3 would even get this far. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the last.<br/>Have a nice day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy had managed to make it on the train a minute before departure. He had to quickly shove the pounds at the lady behind the counter, who glared at him when he did. Luckily for himself, he didn’t have enough energy to care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed past the people getting off the Tube, trying to find a seat before anyone else got on. Tommy brushed a stray candy wrapper off of one of the many dark blue seats of the train before sitting down. Suddenly he heard a ding, and the doors began to close as a voice popped up over the speaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“London Underground Zone 1, next stop Brighton, now departing. We will arrive at approximately 9:00 pm.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighs, leaning back into the rough fabric of the seat. It appears he’s the only one headed to Brighton. All that accompanies him on this ride is empty seats and his backpack full of things. He’s honestly glad, in a twisted sort-of way.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘No one to see me at my lowest.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thinks to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Wilbur will have to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wil had made it clear when they first became close friends that his door was always open to him if anything went wrong in his life. No matter what, he was always welcome in Wilbur’s home.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re like my little brother. I couldn’t imagine you not having a safe place to go to.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>Tommy had nearly decided to not go to Brighton (</span><b><em>to Wil,</em></b> <em><span>his mind supplies.)</span></em><span> for help, but he knew Wil would be even more disappointed in him if he didn’t. So now, he fishes his phone out of his backpack, trying to find Wilbur’s contact to call him through the tears in his eyes. Tommy takes a few deep breaths before pressing on the call button of Wilbur’s contact. The phone rings and rings and… he doesn’t pick up.</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, the person you’re trying to reach is not available to take your call. Please leave your message after the beep.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>*BEEP*</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Wil, uh, It’s Tommy.” Tears well up in his eyes as he tries to keep himself from breaking down on Wil’s voicemail. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I know you said your doors always opened to me and I just…” Tommy accidentally lets a sob slip from his throat. “Call me back when you can. Please. I’m on the Tube headed to Brighton. I love you, Wilby. Uh-bye.” He hangs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy couldn’t hold back his tears anymore, letting himself quietly sob as reality crashes down on him. He was… he… his parents kicked him out. He was disowned. He might be (He will be, Wilbur would never shut him out.) staying at Wilbur’s place for an uncertain amount of time because his parents kicked him out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He sobbed hysterically for what felt like hours, time warping until nothing felt real. The train seats looked like swirls of shapeless color, and it felt like the train wasn’t even moving at all. It was as if he was stuck in limbo. He could barely feel the sting of big fat globs of tears rolled down his raw cheeks. All he could think of was that his parents threw him to the streets with no care for his concern and his big brother wasn’t picking up. Why wasn’t Wilby picking up, was he dead, did he not care-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We are now arriving at Brighton, enjoy your night.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy quickly stood up, and as soon as he did black spots invaded his vision. His head burned from the pressure of the black spots, but his vision quickly leveled out so he could see again. Tommy zipped up his bag, swinging it onto his back. He grabbed his phone off the seat, hiding it in his front pocket before walking out of the train, stepping onto the platform. The doors shut behind him, a ding indicating that the train began its departure to the next stop. The force of the train going by whipped his blonde hair around as if he was in a hurricane. He slowly walked out of the station, having lost his energy due to his sobbing. He finally made it out of the station, the cold air of the November night nipping at his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes his way to a bench outside the station, and he watches the cars pass by on the street across from him. The night was clear, except for the occasional cloud rolling by. The stars were out, and were brighter than what they were in London, as they were usually hidden by the light pollution of the city. It had recently snowed, a light dusting of the white powder covering the ground. There were Christmas lights hung on the station, a soft warm-white glow illuminating the building when the streetlamps could not. It would be beautiful, if he wasn’t distracted by the severity of the situation that he was in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighed checking his phone for any messages, but only came up with a discord from Tubbo asking why he hadn’t called him tonight. His eyes drifted to his battery percentage, which was at 5%. He quickly made the decision to talk to Tubbo for help.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Big Man</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m in a bad spot</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ca n you tell Wil to chec his phone</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>R u okey???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok ok I will</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Mine’s almost dead plz hury</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I did it</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Thnk u big man ily</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Wht is gong on?????</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m at brighton</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>WAHT??? WHY??</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I got</span>
</p><p>
  <b>(This message was deleted)</b>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sorry I can’t tell you</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>ARE YOU OKEY???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>TOMMY???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>HELLOOOOO?????</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>No</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gtg my phones at 2%</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo :)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>OKEY CAL ME BACK WEHN U CAN</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ILY</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>TommyInnit</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok I will</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ilyt big man</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy, hopped off Discord, putting away his phone. He waited for Wilbur to call him or text him when suddenly his phone buzzed.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>1 Text from Wilbur:</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stay put at the station I’m omw, 10 minutes from there</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He opened his phone, immediately sending off a text to his big brother.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>  Tommy</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay I’m outside on a bench</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m on 2%</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank you</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Wilbur</b>
</p><p>
  <span>No problem, ily</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are explaining whats going on when I get there.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nervously gulped at the thought of explaining this to Wil.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Tommy</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ilyt</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy turned off his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He sighed with relief, watching the road for Wilbur’s car. He thought he would get bored, but even as his neck went stiff, he kept watching, waiting, for Wilbur to take him home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ten minutes passed by in a blur and finally Wil arrived, pulling up to the station. Tommy watched as Wil searched for him before he set his sights on Tommy. He quickly averted his gaze as Wilbur ran to him. He listened to Wilbur’s quick footsteps before Wil crouched down to his level, looking him in the eyes. He placed both his hands onto Tommy’s shoulders, firmly but not unkindly gripping his shoulders; It was almost fatherly to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, are you okay?” he asked softly, worry emanating from every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy quickly shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes again. He tried desperately not to cry in front of his big brother, but this all came crumbling down as Wilbur said what he said next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Toms, come here. I’ve got you.” Wilbur quickly pulled him into a hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hastily clung onto Wil, gripping his shirt as if Wilbur would disappear if he let go. He sobbed into the crook of Wilbur’s neck as the older man held onto him tightly, rubbing his hand up and down his back in a repetitive, soothing motion. Wilbur sat on the floor, pulling him onto his lap into a more comfortable position. Wilbur whispered soft praise, encouraging him to cry it out, making Tommy feel the safest he’s felt in years. The two stayed there, holding onto each other, forgetting the rest of the world. Even as Tommy’s tears ran dry, Wil never loosened his grip on Tommy. His brother cradled him in his arms, as if he was protecting Tommy from the entire world. Tommy rested his head against Wil’s chest, listening to his heartbeat drum, the steady beat nearly lulling him to sleep, causing his eyes closing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, let's go home.” Wil whispered to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay Wil.” Tommy said, his words so quiet Wilbur nearly didn’t hear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur swung Tommy’s bag over his shoulder before picking up Tommy himself. Tommy continued listening to his big brother’s heartbeat, as Wilbur walked to his car. The walk to the car made Tommy even sleepier. They stopped, and Tommy felt Wilbur place him in the car, buckling him into the front seat before shutting the door quietly. He heard him open the backseat, presumably throwing his bag into the backseat before closing that door. He felt Wil get into the front seat, starting the car with a ding, causing Tommy to startle at the noise. Wilbur reached over to him, ruffling his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Toms,” He whispered. “You can fall asleep. You’re safe, I’ve got you. We’re going home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the last thing Tommy heard before falling asleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for finishing chapter 2! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please leave a comment or some kudos!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Here beneath my lungs, I feel your thumbs press into my skin again.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy wakes up in his brother's flat and begins to form a routine. </p><p>Meanwhile, Wilbur worries for Tommy.</p><p>Chapter title is from Welcome Home, Son by Radical Son.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WOOOO CHAPTER 3 POG!! I know in some comments I said I didn't want to publish it until I have Chapter 4 done, but its partially complete and should be ready around Thursday-ish for y'all. I'll probably post a oneshot I have tucked away or take a break on posting tomorrow, then update this.<br/>For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter!</p><p> </p><p>EDIT: I FUCKED UP THIS CHAPTER TITLE AND I JUST NOW REALIZED IM SORRY</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Yeah… he was cry…" </em>
</p><p>Tommy groaned, shifting to pull the pillow over his head. Why won't he just shut up?</p><p><em>"I know Ph… yeah he's sle…. I'm worried about him."</em> Wilbur said, his words muffled by the walls surrounding him.</p><p>Wait, Wilbur?</p><p>Tommy shot up out of bed like a rocket, trying to take in his surroundings. The room was familiar; knick-knacks on shelves he's seen before, a guitar leaning against the white walls… but this wasn't his room. It was Wilbur's. But how did he get here?</p><p><em>'Wait… Oh no.'</em> Tommy thinks to himself.</p><p>It all came back to him in an instant. The jackasses pulling him out of the stall, his parents kicking him out, the train ride, Wil picking him up, him crying into Wilbur's arms… <strong>shit</strong>. He was homeless, sleeping in his pseudo-brother's flat. Taking up his bed.</p><p>God, this was humiliating.</p><p>
  <em>"I don't think you should come just yet, Phil. Let me try to talk to him."</em>
</p><p>Wait what? Who was Wil talking about?</p><p>Tommy creeped out of bed, careful to not make a noise as to alert Wilbur that he's awake. He sneaked over to the door, putting his ear to the wood to hear more of the conversation. He was so lucky his shoes were off. Wait, did Wil take off his sneakers? He doesn't remember doing that. He doesn't remember much after crying into Wil's arms.</p><p>What happened?</p><p><em>"I don't know where he came from, Phil. He just called me asking for me to pick him up. But fuck, man, he was sobbing on his voicemail. I tried calling his parents, but they didn't pick up. I'm getting really worried."</em> Tommy could imagine Wilbur's frown; the same one he uses when Tommy does something stupid.</p><p>Oh, they're talking about him. <em>Fun.</em></p><p><em>"Yeah, I'm worried about them too. I'm going to try asking Toms first before I do anything extreme. I'll call you back when I have updates, Phil. I promise."</em> Wilbur sincerely said.</p><p>A pause overcame the flat, and Tommy shifted closer to the door. In the process he accidentally hit the door, making a barely noticeable noise.</p><p>
  <em>"Alright Phil, I'm going to go check on Tommy. I think he's waking up." Shit. "Love you too. Bye."</em>
</p><p>Tommy hurriedly and as quietly as he could went to the bed. He shifted into the bed, hiding under the covers. Something registered in his half-awake brain that maybe Wilbur would think he's asleep and would leave him be if he pretended to be asleep.</p><p>Tommy listened as Wilbur opened the door of his bedroom quietly, walking in softly. </p><p>"Tommy, you awake, kiddo?" Wilbur softly said, causing Tommy to melt into the bed. God, all Tommy wanted was to pull Wil into the bed and cuddle him. Why did Wil have to be such a good big brother?</p><p>"Buddy, I saw your eyes open. It's okay if you dont wanna get up. I'm making breakfast. Just come downstairs, okay?" Wilbur said, ruffling his hair. </p><p>Using exactly none of his impulse control, Tommy grabbed Wil's hand, holding it in his. "M'kay. L'v 'u, Wilby." He muttered out.</p><p>"Love you too, Toms. You comin?" Wil softly told him, never letting go of Tommy's hand.</p><p>Tommy manages to mutter out a weak "mhm", his throat sore, probably from all the crying he previously did.</p><p>Tommy managed to pull himself out of the bed without ever letting go of Wil's hand. The two walked side by side downstairs to the kitchen silently, Tommy too tired to say anything and Wilbur not knowing what to say at all. As they reached the kitchen Wilbur moved to let go of Tommy's hand, earning a whine from the latter.</p><p>"Tommy, I have to let go to make breakfast. Why don't you sit on the counter and watch?" Wil said, the younger boy finally letting go with a pout.</p><p>Wilbur helped the sleepy boy onto the counter, setting him far enough from the stove so he wouldn't get burned but close enough so he could watch. Tommy did just that, watching Wilbur grab a pan and butter, prepping the pan for whatever he was making. The older man grabbed out a couple bowls as well the milk and eggs. He also grabbed a fork and salt and pepper, setting it on the counter as well.</p><p>"Eggs and toast good?" Wilbur asked him, and Tommy gave him a nod.</p><p>Wilbur grinned and got to work, cracking open four eggs, mixing them in the bowl. Once he determined them well-mixed, he poured in the milk and salt and pepper, mixing them in as well. He then switched his gaze from the eggs to the stovetop, turning the flame onto the second lowest setting. He set the pan on top of it, letting it warm up as he went into the pantry to pull out the loaf of bread. Grabbing two of the pre-sliced pieces of bread, he walked over to the old-looking metal toaster next to Tommy, sliding them into the slots. He left them there, presumably waiting to finish the eggs to make the toast. When the butter and the pan was deemed warm enough Wilbur poured the eggs onto the pan. After making sure he got all the egg onto the pan he placed the ceramic bowl and fork into the sink behind him, and grabbed a black plastic spatula from the drawer behind him. He occasionally shifted the eggs around, making sure they were well-cooked. </p><p>"Tommy can you press down the lever on the toaster for me, please?" Wilbur asked him, snapping Tommy out of his trance.</p><p>Tommy turned around and did just that, giving his brother a thumbs up as he turned around. Wilbur smiled at him and pulled the eggs off of the flame, turning off the stove. He grabbed two plates down from the cabinets above the stove, placing the eggs evenly onto the plates. As he put the cooling pan into the sink the toaster went off and Will grabbed the two slices of toast and plated them, spreading butter onto his.</p><p>"Want butter?" Wilbur asked him.</p><p>"Mhm." </p><p>"You going to say anything else than 'mhm', Tommy?"</p><p>"Mhm."</p><p>"Seriously?"</p><p>"Fuck."</p><p>"Okay, yeah, I set myself up for that."</p><p>The two bursts into laughter, the sleepy fog of the morning finally beginning to clear. </p><p>The two ate at the counter, making quiet small talk. They talked about anything and everything but the night previous events. Wil talked about his new song ideas while Tommy gave (barely helpful) input. Tommy though, remained uncharacteristically quiet about his own life. He listened and talked when expected to, mainly too focused onto his eggs and toast. Yeah, it was just eggs and buttered toast, but it was good (and Wilbur made them for him).</p><p>Eventually the chatter shifts, just as Wilbur begins unloading the full dishwasher to be able to place in the dirty dishes. Tommy was finishing up his eggs, Wilbur finishing long ago.</p><p>"So, how's school going, Tommy? Not getting into too much trouble, I hope?" The comment had been meant to be a joke, but it made Tommy freeze.</p><p>
  <em>'Oh god oh god fuck, how do I tell him-'</em>
</p><p>Wilbur must have noticed the tense silence and was immediately at Tommy's side, his damp hands grounding the teenager.</p><p>"Woah, woah, hey Tom's you okay? Breathe with me." </p><p>Tommy obliged, following Wilbur's instructions. It took them a few minutes, but Tommy was finally calmed down. Wil was rubbing his back like he had last night, in small, comforting, circles.</p><p>As he calmed down, Tommy noticed the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and winced. <em>(I’ve gotta man up, like Dad said.)</em></p><p>"Do you wanna talk about buddy? I'm always here to listen." And that's when the dam broke and Tommy spilled everything.</p><p>He told Wilbur about the fights, slipping in how unfair they were, causing the older man to look furious. Tommy had almost thought he was angry at him, but when Wil softly brushed a strand of hair out of his face, worry clear in his eyes, Tommy’s fears melted away. Tommy teared up at the affection and the silent <em>“I care for you, Tommy.”</em>  but moved on. He recounted the suspension and the fact that no one listened to him about how unfair it was, not even his own parents believed him that he was ganged up on. But, then as he got to his parents anger and frustration with him , he faltered. <em>God</em>, he's such a <em>bother</em>, <em>Wilbur's going to agree with them,<strong> he's gOING TO KICK HIM OUT TOO, HE''LL BE ALONE AGAIN, <strike>PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE, WILBY-</strike></strong></em></p><p>"And then what happened?" Wil asked as his voice trailed off after he mentioned his parents.</p><p>"I-uh- Wilbur, I-"</p><p>"Hey, hey bud, listen to me. You don't have to tell me the exact details right now, but whenever you're ready to talk, I'll listen. I just need to know the basics of what happened in case of legal issues." </p><p>
  <em>Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll listen.</em>
</p><p>Tommy broke into full on sobs, once again crying and clinging onto Wilbur's shirt, and he felt a sense of Deja Vù.</p><p><em>‘When has this happened before.’</em> He thought. <em>‘Oh,’</em> Last night. ‘<em>Right.’</em></p><p>The two clung to each other, fearing the other would somehow melt away like snow in spring if they let go. Wilbur kept rubbing small circles into his back with the addition of quiet <em>"I love you"'s</em> and <em>"you're safe, Tommy"'s</em> whispered into his ear.</p><p>"Wil," Tommy managed to choke out between sobs. "They kicked me out: I was so alone. Please don't leave me alone too, Wilby." The end of his sentence devolved into full out sobs.</p><p>While Tommy couldn’t see Wilbur’s face (his face was pressed into Wilbur’s nice shirt, he’s getting it messy, he’s such an inconvenience.) he imagined what he’d look like right now; He’d have his face mixed with worry and concern, his eyes open wide and mouth etched into a frown that only could make Tommy guilty for his actions.</p><p>"Oh, Toms, I wont leave you alone, I promise. I'm so sorry, Bubba, they don't deserve you, sweetheart; You're too good for them. "</p><p>At that, Tommy clung even tighter onto Wilbur, cuddling into the safety of his big brother. His sobs had grown hysterical by now, the only thing making it, so he breathed was the slow rise and fall of Wilbur’s chest. Tommy buried his face into Wilbur's cotton shirt, trying to calm himself down as Wilbur slowly stroked his upper back. The two sat like that for what felt like eons and seconds at the same time. Tommy would occasionally shift on the counter, and Wilbur would adjust his arms or head. By the end, Tommy’s eyes were drooping, and Wilbur was shifting more and more, seemingly restless from being in one position for a long time.</p><p>“Tommy? You okay there?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy just shook his head soundlessly. </p><p>He wasn’t, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be.</p><p>“That’s okay,” It’s okay to feel how you feel was said silently. “I don’t blame you.”</p><p>Tommy just slightly smiled into his shoulder, a serene feeling overtaking him at Wilbur’s validation. Said man pulled back a bit, causing Tommy to involuntarily whine at the loss of contact. He flushed a bit at his own childishness, but looked up to Wilbur through sleepy eyes. Wilbur eyes were tracing his face, looking for something that Tommy couldn’t figure out. Tommy let out a yawn as he looked up as his brother before Wilbur’s face softened. Wilbur brushed a falling strand of blonde hair before snaking his hand down to his waist to hold him again.</p><p>“Tommy, I’m going to pick you up, alright?” Tommy nodded softly.</p><p>Wilbur picked him up by the crook of his legs and the small of his back gently, as if Tommy was fine china that could break if he was mishandled. Tommy kept his clutch on Wilbur’s shirt, adjusting himself to hold onto Wil even tighter. The older man carefully got them to the sofa, placing Tommy down on his side before sitting sideways and pulling Tommy in. The two lied on the sofa, not saying much, but fidgeting and shifting the whole time. Wilbur pet Tommy’s hair and Tommy played with his hands, holding one hand in his, circling his palm with his finger using the other hand. Despite both boys uncharacteristically saying nothing, the silence was only verbal; their conversation was slow and relaxed, nonverbally giving comfort and reassurance to fill each other's hearts. And they laid like that for most of the day, only getting up for food and bathroom breaks. Neither minded as the other rested their head on their shoulder as they ate, or when one grabbed the other’s hand tightly. They had each other, and that was all they needed for today to be okay.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for finishing the chapter! Would you please leave some kudos and a comment? It would make my day :D I hope you all have a good day :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I can’t do this alone anymore, cause I’m no good on my own anymore.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When Dadza and Mumza came to visit the boys, ready to take on Tommy's "parents" Wilbur didn't expect to have an earth-shattering revelation.</p><p>Tommy didn't expect to have one either.</p><p>Title is from I Was an Island by John-Allison Weiss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AYOOOO IM BACK BITCHES! </p><p>Sorry for the delay, I had MAJOR writers block for this story. Who knew writing from Wilbur's POV would free me from it!</p><p>I got some good news, though! One of my school projects was chosen by the english teacher to be a class example, as well as enter into some contests! I also got into National Honor's Society! Woo!!!!</p><p>I hope you all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first day with Tommy had come and gone with the tide, with eyes free from tears and hearts a bit lighter. Over the next week the two went about trying to find a shred of normalcy, but Wilbur was caught up wondering what he should do. Should he try to get in contact with Tommy's… former parents? If he could even call them that? He wants— no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs— </span>
  </em>
  <span>to try and get them to sign over custody to him or Phil or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody </span>
  </em>
  <span>trustworthy. God, just anyone that isn’t… </span>
  <b>them</b>
  <span>. They don't deserve Tommy— </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one does.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy was like sunshine; warm and inviting, and would melt your heart if you stayed around long enough. Wilbur didn’t deserve him, nor did Techno, or Phil, or anyone on the SMP</span>
  <em>
    <span>— God, not even the Queen— </span>
  </em>
  <span>and definitely not Tommy’s “</span>
  <em>
    <span>parents</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” But Tommy couldn’t stay on the streets, he couldn’t do that to the poor lad, not after all he’s been through. So he or Phil and Kristen would have to adopt him: or, at least become his guardian. Tommy deserved that much at the bare minimum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Currently, said kid was sitting on Wil’s couch watching cartoons: as much as Tommy likes to say he’s a big man, he’ll always love watching cartoons. (Wilbur doesn’t have much room to talk, as he still loves all sorts of cartoons.) Steven Universe Future was on the television, some episode with Steven surrounded by the gems? Wilbur watched the show but didn’t quite remember much, but Tommy seemed to be glued to the screen so that was a win. Thank whatever gods were out there threw him a bone and distracted Tommy so Wilbur could get things in order.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right now, he was texting Techno and Phil in a group chat— minus Tommy and Tubbo, for obvious reasons. Techno and Phil were rightfully furious over what Tommy’s parents had done to him, and Techno was trying to get a flight over. The younger man had said something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Even though I don’t say it much, he’s like a little brother to me and I can’t imagine not being there for him.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>but with a lot more emotional constipation. Luckily, Techno, the ever genius, was helping him and Phil research UK laws on how for one of them to get custody of Tommy, even temporarily. So far, it seemed like the best bet was to confront the parents, get legal documents made and signed, then take it to court. But, the problem was that without evidence they might not have a strong case if his parents refuse. Luckily, when Wilbur brought up this issue to Tommy, the teen told him about what had happened the night before in more detail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I recorded everything too, that’s why my phone battery was so low that I had to go through Tubbo to get you.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had said, and it was as if the Heavens had opened and shone down on mankind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, the three were trying to figure out a way to build a case. During this, they kept Tommy occupied while they did this so the teen didn’t have to be involved anymore than he had to. But, they couldn’t keep doing this over text so Kristen was driving her and Phil over so they could chat at Wil’s house. Phil wasn’t driving because apparently Kristin yelled at him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>“he’s gonna get in a car accident from texting and driving if she didn’t drive.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>So, Phil let her drive, ranting to the group chat. The fact that he was that whipped would have made Wilbur snicker if it weren’t the fact that Kristin Fucking Watson was Phil’s wife. Yeah, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>angering her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You went to the hospital?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wilbur hears a voice shriek coming from the TV screen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur turns around, watching Tommy’s face as the scene on the TV plays out. The blonde’s eyes are wide and panicked as Steven rants, as if to diffuse the situation. Tommy’s hands clench the soft red blanket wrapped around him, his knuckles nearly bone-white. The bright glow of the television illuminates Tommy’s anxious face. His attention was raptured by the cartoon with a look of almost… understanding? As if he understood the plight Steven was going through. Didn’t Steven have PTSD or something? </span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur hoped Tommy didn’t understand how the main character felt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the doorbell rings, pulling Wilbur out of his worry. Wilbur hurried from the dining room table to the front door and opened it to see Phil and Kristen, bags in hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys!” Wilbur exclaims, smiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur barely registers the TV being paused as a set of footsteps patters across his hardwood floor and suddenly stops behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Move over, bitch!” Tommy yells.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grins, moving over a bit to let the kid through before Tommy throws himself onto Phil.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, mate.” Phil said softly with a small smile and unreadable eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bitch! Hi, Kristin!” Tommy says, and Wilbur can hear the grin in his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why does Kristin get a normal greeting and I don't?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Eat shit, old man! Kristin supremacy!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kristin walks over to Wil, smiling at the younger man. She pulls him into a hug, and Wilbur hugs right back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Wil. How are you holding up?” She asks softly, her voice a whisper at the end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Kristin. We’re doing okay, trying to figure out a new normal, ya know? I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, though.” He whispers back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two end their hug to see Phil taking off his jacket, Tommy trying to fix his ruffled hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Willll, Phil messed up my hair! He’s such a bitch!” Tommy whines, grinning the whole time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur lets out a loud laugh, reaching over to ruffle Tommy’s hair, said kid letting out a screech as he does. The three adults bust out laughing as he does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What,” Wilbur giggles, wiping away a tear. “What was that?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s giggling profusely, his face a bright red. “I don’t fucking know!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone laughs louder at that, and it took longer for them to calm down than Wilbur would like to admit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Okay—" Wilbur giggles, wiping away a tear. "We need to get to business. You two, why don't you hang up your coats and things then meet me and Tommy in the kitchen? Tommy, come help me set up tea." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy groans, grouchily mumbling about how “he had to pause during a climax in his show” and “it’s fucking unfair.” Wilbur just rolled his eyes, and guided the boy into the kitchen. Tommy begrudgingly followed, with a small anxious grin on his face. Wilbur sighed, and turned to the boy, slowly placing a hand on his shoulder to make sure the teen knew what Wilbur was doing. Luckily, Tommy didn’t seem anymore uncomfortable so he began to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Tommy, how are you feeling?” He questioned the boy softly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, big man! Don’t worry about me.” Tommy avoided Wilbur’s gaze, worrying Wilbur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, but if you’re not, Toms, that’s okay. You can take a break if you get overwhelmed or talk to me if you want.” Wilbur hoped Tommy listened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Wil. Now, let’s go bother the old man!” He yelled with a laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur laughed, shaking his head, and then started a pot of coffee as well a kettle of tea. He heard a cabinet open and he looked around to see Tommy pulling out four mugs. Wilbur melted a bit at that; Tommy’s really getting comfortable here. He just hopes this plan works so it says that way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, boys. How’s it going?” Phil asks and Wilbur goes to open his mouth before Tommy yells.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very good, Philza Minecraft!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil laughed. “I’m glad, Tommy. How are you, Wil?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckled before speaking up. “I’m good, man. Are you doing good, old man?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil playfully gasped dramatically. “Old! How dare you, Wilbur Soot. I’m only 32!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy raised an eyebrow and drawled out his next sentence with an amount of sarcasm that would’ve made Technoblade proud. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Only?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil made a noise of shock, eyes wide and jaw slack, staring at Tommy. Wilbur turns to his little brother and fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>loses it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Holy fucking shit Tommy, where the fuck did you learn that?” Phil asked him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy rolled his eyes playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur has to hold himself up with his hands on his knees so he doesn’t keel over from laughing too hard. Phil starts laughing at him, seemingly not only because he was amused, but out of shock at the loudmouthed boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on here?” Asks Kristin, who had just walked into the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy happened.” Phil replied through laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he had finally started to calm down a bit, Wilbur looked up, saw Tommy’s smug expression and fucking lost it </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kristin starts laughing too, but out of confusion. “What did you do, child.” Kristin asked him playfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur pulled himself together, still laughing, but leaned back on the counter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you ask the old man?” Wilbur said through laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil groaned. “I’m not THAT old.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur gave Phil a </span>
  <em>
    <span>“yeah, uh-huh, sure.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> look just as Tommy spoke up again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keep lying to yourself, big man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, holy fucking shit, he’s already dead!” Wilbur yelled out playfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked straight up into Wilbur’s eyes, and Wilbur could see how hard Tommy was composing himself. “He was already one foot in the grave. Not my fault he’s old.” He said with a shrug, before losing all composure and laughing his ass off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur, along with the other adults in the room laugh with the teen. This continues for about a minute until Wilbur’s snapped out of it by the tea kettle blaring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, fuck.” Tommy says, covering his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur winces as he takes the tea kettle off of the stove. Wilbur grabs the mugs that Tommy got out, and pour the water into two of the mugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, who wants what? I made coffee and I have…” Wilbur opens the tea cabinet and sorts through what he has. “Chamomile, Raspberry and lemon, jasmine, Green tea, Lady Grey, Earl Grey, English breakfast…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Earl grey for me, mate.” Said Phil.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jasmine for me, please.” replied Kristin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy scrunches up his nose, causing Wil to roll his eyes. “You can have water, juice, or soda if you want Tommy. No coffee, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy opened his mouth to protest but Wilbur shushed him. “How about I make you a hot chocolate, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy glares weakly at him before agreeing. “Fine.” he mumbled out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! Now, Tommy, you can go back inside if you want, we’ll be right in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods, throwing up a peace sign, and leaving the room. Wilbur chuckles before turning back to Phil and Kristin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know Kris asked, but how are you and Tommy holding up? It must be hard.” Phil asked, lowering his voice so Tommy couldn’t hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re doing okay. Tommy’s had a few nightmares, but I’m always there for him when they happen.” Wilbur didn’t mention how Tommy usually ended up in his bed every night, clinging to his big brother to get rid of the horrors of his nightmares.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil raises an eyebrow. “Nightmares? Of what?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur placed the tea bags into the two mugs with water, and handed it to the two. He then swivels around to get out a saucepan for the milk for Tommy’s hot chocolate. He placed the saucepan down, before walking over to the fridge and pulling out the milk, pouring some into the saucepan and turning up the heat on the stove. Wilbur placed the milk jug down, then turned to the couple, looking up into their eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His parents. He doesn’t tell me much, to be honest, but he…” Wilbur winces, thinking of how on the second night, Tommy had screamed in his sleep for his parents to let him back in, and about how cold it was. “He talks in his sleep. It’s enough for me to make inferences. He hasn’t truly told me yet, but it’s not hard to guess to be honest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kristin looks worriedly at him. “What does he say?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur lets out a big sigh, looking down. “That’s…” Wilbur chuckles, but there’s no joy behind it. “That’s a tough question. I kinda feel bad for saying this; it feels so personal, ya know? Well, it’s… he.. He calls for his parents a lot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Phil says, coaxing him to continue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur takes a shaky breath. “Yeah… he begs for them to let him back in. He says how cold it is. It… scares me, to be honest. I don’t like seeing him so hurt that he feels it when he sleeps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil looks at Wilbur with acute worry, frowning at him. “I understand, Wil. Have you tried talking to him about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur shook his head. “Knowing Tommy he’d close himself off even further. I don’t want that to happen, so I’m stuck waiting for him to open up on his own time. But I’ll wait a thousand years for him, you know that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil nods his head in understanding. “I know, mate. I was just hoping you knew anymore than we already know.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur shakes his head. “Nope. All I know is about the ‘fights’,” Wilbur does air-quotes at that. “More like Tommy getting fucking bullied… Him getting suspended, his parents believing his bullies and Tommy getting kicked out. I feel like more is going on than Tommy is telling us. I really, really feel like it guys. But I’m not going to pressure him. Just… keep your eyes and ears out, okay? If Tommy comes to you to open up, take it. He needs that support system.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two nod and Wilbur sighs with relief. “Okay now… what next?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil chuckled. “Mate, I think Tommy’s hot coco is next.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh- SHIT—” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil and Kristin laughed hysterically, as Wilbur frantically pulled the saucepan of simmering milk off of the hot burner, before grabbing Tommy’s favorite mug off of the counter (it was a creeper mug that was actually square) and poured the milk in, then grabbed a packet of hot cocoa mix and poured that in, stirring it in. He put a couple marshmallows in, then grabbed his own mug, a tall mug with an orca whale on it, placing the freshly brewed coffee in. It was just warm now, but he was already planning on putting some ice cubes and creamer in. So, he did just that, sighing in relief once he was done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, mate, I've never seen you move that fast.” Phil said with a grin that looked as if he knew something Wilbur didn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckled, confused at Phil’s look. “Yeah, man, I did not want to have to remake Tommy’s milk. That would be hell.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah… sure that’s it.” Phil says, looking at him with mirth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur was certainly confused then. “What do you mean, Phil?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing…Nothing, Wil.” Phil said with a wave of his hand. Sly bastard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, you know… kind of looked like a panicked dad for a second there.” Kristin said, and Wilbur froze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mate, I—”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur whipped around to stare incredulously at the two. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… what the fuck? I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy’s dad—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine if you see him as a son, mate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not Tommy’s fucking dad! He’s his older brother, who cares for him, who’s looking after him. That’s all. He doesn’t want Tommy to call him dad, or to call Tommy his son. He definitely didn’t! So what if Wilbur had imagined Tommy calling him his dad, it was just his imagination running wild. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did he see Tommy as a son?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. No, he did not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You- you shuuttt up, Philza Minecraft. You- shu- ugh.” Wilbur put his head in his hands, leaning his elbows onto the island in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You good, mate?” Phil asked Wilbur.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur groans, and rubs his face with his hands. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. I just…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Had a realization?” Kristin supplies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something in the back of his head whispers </span>
  <em>
    <span>“yes.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> with a confidence unknown to his conscious mind. He shoves that down, along with the memories of nights spent worrying about Tommy, even before Tommy was oh-so-cruelly kicked out by his poor excuses of parents. If there was a small nagging purple shoebox of memories of him worrying about Tommy because of how popular he is at a young age, or if he’s eating enough cause he offhandedly mentioned he doesn’t eat breakfast most days, or if Tommy’s parents left him home alone on another business trip, well, Wilbur just labels that shoebox in yellow as </span>
  <b>“Little Brother”,</b>
  <span> over the truthful blue of </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Son.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. That’s just—” Wilbur laughs in disbelief. “That’s just fucking absurd. Come one, let’s go see Tommy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur regains his composure, picks up the mugs, and walks into the living room to see Tommy silently sobbing on the couch, looking at the TV screen as if he was staring straight through it. A protective instinct worms its way into Wilbur as he hurriedly puts down the mugs in favor of rushing over to Tommy. He kneels in front of the boy, all the while his mind is screaming out; </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Help Tommy!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Help him.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> along with a panicked cry of </span>
  <b>
    <em>“He was only gone for five seconds, what happened?!”</em>
  </b>
  <span>. But something worms into his panicked mind that makes him freeze momentarily;</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Why is my son crying?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Could he? No… It was Phil and Kristin getting to him. He shook his head, before focusing back on Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Toms, what happened?” He asks in the softest voice he could muster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t respond, he’s just clenching the red blanket he’s curled up in. He’s staring straight ahead but there’s no recognition in his eyes. His eyes look glossy from the tears falling from them, and his cheeks are raw.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, bud, can you hear me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy finally snaps back to reality, his eyes regaining some life and his cheeks getting some healthy color. He mumbles out something indiscernible, unknowing to Wilbur’s ears. Wilbur places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder in an attempt to ground him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, bud, glad to see you’re back with us. Can you tell me what happened so I can help you out?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy sobs. “I—It’s just the TV show, Wil. I’m fine.” It didn’t look like a complete lie... Oh God, please don’t let this be what he thinks it is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy I can tell there’s something more. Can you please explain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked bewildered, like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to see. “I… It just reminded me of us. How you saved me and stuff. I didn’t realize how much I relate to Steven.” A sob pulls from Tommy’s throat. “In my family, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the peacemaker between my parents. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what was holding the family together. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one who made sacrifices for everyone else. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>comfort my parents, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>listened to </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span> rant about their failing marriage and how much they hate the other. Then when I’m at my lowest, they blame me and guilt trip me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s always my fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Tommy sobs and pulls his knees to his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck fuck fuck </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>fuck</em>
  </b>
  <span>. No this is the worst possible outcome from this situation. Why is his boy feeling this way? He didn’t protect him well enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God, he’s a horrible excuse of a <strike>f</strike></span>
  </em>
  <strike><b><em>ather</em></b> </strike>
  <b>
    <em>brother—</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur takes a deep breath, regaining control of himself and begins to assess the situation. Tommy needs to know his feelings are valid, and that if Tommy ever needs to talk he’s here. Tommy needs to be told he doesn’t have to do that anymore, he’s just a kid and he’s safe. Maybe he should give Tommy a hug— </span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ask him first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, bud, it’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay, especially after all you’ve been through; you’re hurt and it’s okay to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt. It’s not your fault, it’s your parents. They shouldn’t have dropped their issues on you, and then expected you to fix everything. It’s not your problem to fix, it’s theirs. You’re safe here, and you don’t ever have to do that ever again. I’m always here if you need to talk, cause I’m an adult who knows how to deal with stress. I know how to help you, as long as you let me. You understand, or was that too much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy pulls in a shaky breath, and nods. “I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur nods, softly smiling at the boy. “Good. If you ever need anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m here for you. Now, would you like a distraction, to talk about it, a hug, or to be left alone?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy pauses, looking up to Wilbur, not quite meeting his eyes. That’s okay, Wilbur knows he hates eye contact. Eventually the teen hugs him, and Wilbur hugs him back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just this for now.” Tommy murmurs into his collarbone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Wilbur whispers out, voice a bit raspy. “That’s okay. Let me just adjust us so we can sit on the couch.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur feels Tommy nod, and so he picks the boy up, and cradles him so Wilbur can stand and then sit on the couch. Once he’s on the couch, he holds Tommy close, who’s clinging to him like a baby koala to a mother koala. It is quite cute, and Wilbur can’t help but coo at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look at my boy,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> a voice that sounds oddly like himself whispers in his mind, calm and peaceful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“My son; No one will hurt him </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>ever </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stops in his tracks. No, he doesn’t see Tommy as a son, does he? Well, what’s the true meaning of a dad, anyways? Wilbur imagines it shallowly as a man who loves his children, but he knows it’s more than that. It’s a man who not only loves his children, but looks out for them. He comforts his children as they cry and patches up every wound. No matter how many times they fuck up, the father still loves his kids. He holds them tight, but also lets them spread their wings. He teaches his kids right from wrong, and helps them to become the best person they can be. He’d do anything for his children, even if it meant giving up his own life. But… wasn’t exactly how Wilbur felt about Tommy?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur tries to rationalize it- </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, he and Tommy are so close in age, no, he and Tommy always call each other brothers, no, Wilbur’s too young</span>
  </em>
  <span>- but he finds that none of it matters. It’s just endless and fruitless chatter. Those things don’t matter. He’s Tommy’s dad, and Tommy’s his son, no matter how much he’d like to say he’s not. And if he wasn’t terrified before, holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tommy’s his son, he’s responsible for Tommy. God, what if he hurts Tommy? Fuck, he can’t do this. He can’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur?” Tommy sniffles out, voice uncharacteristically quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Toms?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was alone before you. Thank you for not making me stay that way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, that yellow label on that purple shoebox peels away to reveal the truth. It’s blue, and it’s powerful, and it’s purely </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy is his </span>
  <em>
    <span>son</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he’ll try to be a good father to him. He’ll try his damndest to keep Tommy happy, and healthy, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Toms. I love you more than anything in the world; I’d do anything for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy giggles and pulls Wilbur closer. “Love you too, big man.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur internally sighs in relief. He’s feeling better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Now, why don’t you go wash up? Me, Phil, and Kristin will wait until you’re ready.” He softly nudges Tommy who gets up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy looks more at peace than Wilbur’s ever seen him, even when he’s sleeping. He needed this, didn’t he? They both did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Alright, don’t miss me too much though!” He says, shooting finger guns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur groans. Yep, his son’s—the word makes his heart soar— definitely feeling better. “Just go, you gremlin child.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy rolls his eyes before walking off to the bathroom. Wilbur watches as his form disappears, the lanky blonde ducking into the doorway of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Without looking at Phil, who is now sitting next to him, he utters his next sentence with a confidence unknown to him before this very moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, Phil, I think you were right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that, Wil?” Phil asks, and Wil can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the smug, shit-eating grin in his words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ignores that, though, in favor of softly telling Phil his earth-shattering revelation, his eyes still focused on the door. “Tommy’s my son.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...DADBUR IS CANON, BITCHESSSS!</p><p> </p><p>THIS. THIS HOW I GOT OUT OF WRITERS BLOCK.</p><p>Anyways... Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you leave a comment and some kudos it would be GREATLY appreciated! Have a nice day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I was a billion little pieces 'til you pulled me into focus; Astronomy in reverse, it was me who was discovered.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's time.</p>
<p>Chapter Title from Venus by Sleeping At Last.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>COME GET Y'ALL JUICE!!!</p>
<p>ITS DADBUR TIME, LADIES, LADS, AND NONBINARY WARLORDS!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After that fateful breakdown in front of Wilbur, Phil, and Kristin, they’d given him his space. Wilbur remade his hot chocolate because the first one was cold, and the patchwork-family sat and lightheartedly talked for a while. Eventually the topic shifted into a serious tone, and Tommy’s permanent residence was brought up. The adults in the room gave him three options; live with Wilbur, live with Phil and Kristin, or with a family member. It was no-brainer for Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to live with Wil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, two months later, he’s standing outside a courthouse with Wilbur, waiting for Phil and Kristin, dressed in a nice blazer and dress pants, ready to get his custody shifted over to Wilbur- permanently, might he add. The air of the late-January morning nipped at any uncovered skin, helping Tommy to focus on anything but the fact that he was about to go face his parents (if he could even call them that) for full custody of him to be given to Wilbur. Tommy vaguely noted that he was sweating, but that could be chalked up to the layers Wilbur made him wear over his suit. That man really is like an overprotective dad, isn’t he? Well, Tommy thinks so, at least. Never had one of those, to be honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anxiety aside, Tommy was confident; the lawyer Wilbur had gotten had said their case was strong because of the evidence Tommy recorded. Though he was nervous to show the video of his parents kicking him out, he knew it was needed; it was just enough to help him be free from them. Hopefully, by the end of the day he’ll officially be Tommy Soot, and Wilbur and him will be family not only in bond, but on paper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toms, you ready, bud?” Wilbur said, placing a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy took a shaky breath in, pressing the white buttons on the red fidget cube in his hands. “Yeah, Wil, I’m ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur cocked an eyebrow at him. “Tommy, you only use the buttons on your cube if you’re nervous. It’s okay to be, it’s completely understandable. Do you need a moment before we go in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy went to shake his head and complain at Wilbur for being sappy and shit, but he found he couldn’t. He looked up Wil, the man who’s slowly taking over the role as his parent, and launched himself at him. He’s so fucking scared; What if they lose? What if Tommy never sees Wilbur again? What if he has to go back to his parents?</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toms… It’s okay. I’m here.” Wilbur murmured into his hair, pulling him flushed against his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two stood there for a minute, before Wilbur pulled back a bit, gently pulling Tommy’s chin up to look at him in the face. “Tommy, if we lose this case, know I will fight for you. They shouldn’t have custody over you; they hurt you badly. It’s okay to be hurting. I’m here for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy nods, smiling through teary eyes at Wilbur. He laughs a shaky laugh, wiping his eyes. “Let’s go win this court case, bitch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur laughs, ruffling his hair as Tommy groans for him to stop. The teenager rolls his eyes as Wilbur teases him for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Wilbur! You’re not a big man, and non-big men don't get to speak.” He definitely did not pout. Nope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I guess we shouldn’t go inside then, huh? Guess there’s no court case.” Wilbur says, walking away from the courthouse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy splutters. “Wha-huh-hey! Wilbur come back you dickhead!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur starts laughing and running, causing Tommy to chase after him, the polyester on his snow pants rubbing against each other, making an uncomfortable noise. He tries his best to ignore the noise but he luckily has to stop running, because Wilbur stopped short in front of him, causing him to nearly crash into Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur points to a familiar family across the street, walking up to the courthouse. “Tubbo and his parents are here. Toms, let’s get to the courthouse.” Wilbur says, running back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy follows him, sweating even more under his layers of clothes- Goddamnit, Wilbur. Seriously? He feels like a fucking marshmellow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, the two walk (Tommy felt like he was more-or-less waddling) over to the three, and Tommy feels his heart flutter; they had come to his custody case like they promised! Yeah, it was just them five, and eventually Phil and Kristin, but that was enough for him. The family comes into view, and Tommy grins, running up to his friend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“TOOB!” He yells out the nickname, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘TOMATHY!” Tubbo yells back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two meet on the sidewalk, feverishly hugging each other. He hears Tubbo’s, and his own, laughter as they sway back and forth in the hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good to see you, big man!” He says, pulling out of the hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too, Tommy! Wouldn’t miss today for the world. You’re gonna win, I know it!” Tubbo says with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy feels his stomach at the reminder of the custody case, but he banishes that out of his head and nods. “Damn right, big man! Now,” He begins his chatter, swinging an arm around Tubbo. “How are you, Tubbo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good! I sent in my Uni Applications last week. I also won in UNO against Lani again, she kept saying I cheated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy laughs, joining in to make jokes about how he probably did cheat, and so forth. The two best friends bantered back and forth, laughing their asses off. Tommy makes a crude joke, Tubbo shoves him, and Tommy shoves him right back. The two laugh their asses off at dumb jokes and memes on their phones. By the time Phil and Kristin had gotten there, Tubbo and Tommy were leaning on each other for support because of how hard they were laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’re you two laughing about?” Asks an amused Phil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Endermen holding mobs.” Tubbo said through laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” He confusedly asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy shows Phil his phone screen, watching as the older man’s face morphs from confusion to horror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Oh, OH- GROSS.” Phil said, busting out laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kristin peered over Phil’s shoulder, and started to hysterically laugh when she saw the meme. Tommy grinned, flapping his hands up and down in excitement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’re you guys laughing about?” Wilbur said and Tommy looked up, slowly stopping himself from flapping his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy shoved the phone screen towards Wilbur, who burst out laughing at the meme. “What the fuck?” The older man said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually they all calmed down, and Wilbur began talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Tommy before we go, I have a surprise for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil pulled out his phone and started recording. What’s going on?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re really nervous about this case, and I know you’re scared we’re going to lose. I’m not going to lie to you- I’m scared too. Even though we’re confident we’ll win, there is still a change we’ll lose. We just need to keep faith that our family-</span>
  <em>
    <span> our real family- </span>
  </em>
  <span>will be there for us. I know you didn’t want to invite the entire SMP, but I also know you were sad when Techno said he couldn’t come. But, well, we pulled some strings and…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy perked up, looking for Techno, before the 21-year-old stepped out, smiling at Tommy. “Hey, Theseus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy groaned. The first thing Techno says to him is </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking joke? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fucking nerd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno chuckled. “Sorry, I had too, kid. C’mere.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy rushed to Techno, hugging the older man. Techno held him tight, and Tommy wished he never had to let go of the pinkette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You made that joke the first time you see me in person, Tech? Seriously? And you call everyone else nerds.” Tommy cheekily said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s cause you all are nerds.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Takes one to know one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking get him, Tommy!” Wilbur chimes in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh shush, Wilbur. You hyper fixated on writing a Minecraft roleplay.” Techno replies snarkily, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been a Minecraft YouTuber for over 5 years, and dropped out of university to be one. Try again, Blade.” Wilbur playfully says back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both of you became friends with 16-year-olds, and one of you is fucking adopting one. Checkmate!” Tubbo chimed in, and Tommy laughed in high fived him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fucking roast them, Tubbo!” Tommy yells, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t need to,” He said with a shrug. “They’ve done that to themselves pretty well already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooooo!” Phil says grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, I don’t mean to break up the fun, guys, but I think we have to get in there soon.” Kristin cut in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone agreed before they all began to walk up the steps of the courthouse. Wilbur walked over to Tommy, and grabbed his hand and squeezed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, leaning his head on Wilbur’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, kid. We’re all behind you.” Techno stated, ruffling his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy nods his heads again, gripping Wilbur’s hand harder, fixing his hair with the other. “We’ve got this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turns out, Tommy was right. The case was a unanimous decision among the jury to grant Wilbur full parental custody, along with a warrant for Tommy to retrieve anything he bought from the home. Anything his former parents threw out would be reimbursed by them. Thankfully, all he had to grab was his PC setup, some clothes, and his stuffed dog, Betty, among other things. From then on, his family was made from familial bonds and not blood, and they were all smiles and cheer. He was too, of course, he reckoned he was the one smiling the most out of them all, maybe except Wilbur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The family of eight walked out the large doors of the courthouse, laughing amongst each other. They’d actually won: Tommy was right where he belonged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, Tommy, we won.” Wilbur said, with a beautiful glint in his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We did!” Tommy said with a laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We won!” Wilbur said, placing his hands onto Tommy’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy flapped his hands up and down excitedly before hugging Wilbur. The older man held Tommy before lifting him up and twirling him around. Tommy giggled at the motion, quite enjoying the feeling. Wilbur slowed to a stop then put Tommy down. The older man paused, looking at Tommy, who was giggling. He slowly placed a hand on Tommy’s face before whispering a sentence that made Tommy’s entire body feel warm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re safe,” He whispered, cradling the boy’s face. “You’re home. My boy, my sweet boy. I’ll protect you till the ends of time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe you.” He whispered back, and he meant it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two hugged again, but gentler this time. It still held that same passion from the previous hug, but it felt more like a warm and steady flame rather than a wildfire. But the soft hug was ripped apart by calloused hands. Tommy spun around, and his heart dropped to his feet when he saw who had pulled them apart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How dare you, Tommy Simmons, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>you lie to the judge.” His mother began, fuming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy shrank into himself, silent and fearful of what came next. He was so, so screwed. Oh she was so mad, and they’re all going to believe her when she says that he lied. How is he going to fix this? As he panicked, Wilbur spoke up before any true harm could come onto him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Tommy Soot now, you neglectful assholes. Maybe if you were better parents and had paid attention during the hearing you would’ve known that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur was pure fury, a ball of protective fire, that, at first, Tommy feared. But as he got closer to the man, </span>
  <em>
    <span>basked in his light</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he realized that Wilbur wouldn’t burn </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He burned others to protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>not the other way around. So, Tommy shoved down his own fear and let Wilbur burn for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>speak to my wife that way.” His father yelled, stepping into Wilbur’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said what I said. Tommy’s Tommy Soot, not Tommy Simmons. He was never yours in the first place!” Wilbur yelled back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur’s eyes were near-slits as he glared disgustedly at the balding man that Tommy once called his father. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><span>“It shouldn’t be. </span><em><span>You </span></em><span>didn’t father him, </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>didn’t hold him for the first time, </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>didn’t feed him, </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>didn’t bathe him, </span><em><span>you </span></em><span>didn’t change him. </span><b><em>I DID!</em></b> <em><span>I’m </span></em><span>his </span><em><span>father, I </span></em><span>fathered him, and </span><em><span>Louise </span></em><span>is his </span><em><span>mother</span></em><span>. Not </span><em><span>you</span></em><span>! He’s not </span><em><span>YOURS!” </span></em><span>His father yelled at Wilbur, his face beat red.</span></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I may have not fathered him, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>a better father than </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’ll ever be! I </span>
  </em>
  <span>hold him as he cries about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>never being there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>make sure he eats, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>took him in when </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>kicked him out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>with him through every nightmare and night terror, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>make sure he’s loved and knows he’s loved, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>God </span>
  </em>
  <span>knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t! There’s a reason he didn’t come running back to you after you kicked him out, and it’s fucking obvious that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>the fucking reason why! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>your despicable wife </span>
  </em>
  <span>are </span>
  <em>
    <span>neglectful </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>abusive </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>distant</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and are </span>
  <em>
    <span>clear </span>
  </em>
  <span>examples of two people who </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>ever </em>
  </b>
  <span>be parents! </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>everything</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> you should’ve </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>been</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wilbur yelled back, his voice crescendoing into a scream by the end of his rant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Tommy could do was stand there shocked. He knew Wilbur cared, but so much that he viewed himself as Tommy’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>father?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy’s going to be honest with himself, he doesn’t know what it’s like to have a healthy father figure in the slightest besides Phil, but Phil wasn’t quite a true father figure to him. It was like a father figure, but a little to the left. In all honesty, Tommy’s not quite sure if he knows how to have a present and caring dad, and he isn’t quite sure if he sees Wilbur the same way. But he’s not afraid of Wilbur, unlike he is when it comes to his da-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Christopher</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span> (He really needs to start calling the son of a bitch by his name, and not by a title he doesn’t deserve.)</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s a big step up, but that’s the bare fucking minimum. Tommy has no standards on father figures, and no clue on what his standards should be. He’s gone so long without an actual good father figure that it hurts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>As a child, he’d latch onto YouTubers and daydream about them noticing him and whisking him away like he’s Annie and they’re Daddy fucking Warbucks. He’d read fanfictions of Markiplier being his dad, or the cast of Hamilton adopting him and letting him live in the Richard Rodgers Theatre away from his neglectful parents. He’d hide away in his daydreams that helped mold his want to be a YouTuber and Twitch streamer. Now it’s January 2021, and he’s got nearly 6 million YouTube subscribers and counting, a group of friends who support him no matter what, and maybe, just maybe, a Dad. If he was going to be honest, that scared him. But so did being kicked out, but look where he is now. He wouldn’t get his hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, those Adopted by YouTuber fanfics weren’t entirely impossible. Maybe he’d be something to someone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Christopher and Louise screamed at Wilbur and Phil, who had joined in at some point, he made up his mind. He <em>had</em> to do this- He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do this. He needed to stand for himself against his former parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you all just shut the fuck up?” He chimed in, watching as the adults all turned to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Language!” Louise screamed, and he’s reminded of Bad, but less kind. He should really talk to Bad about that now that everyone knows about his shitty parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Bad would understand why he’s defiant on his no-swearing rule.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“English, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Now, Louise, Christopher-” He begins, but is cut off by the eldest blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy Simmons, you do not get to call us by our first names, we are your parents-” Christopher yells.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy frowns, narrowing his gaze at the bastard. Alright, you want to be a dick, bitch boy? Two could play this game. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh really? Where were you when I hit one million subscribers? Where were you when I was struggling in school and needed help? Where were you for my past three birthdays? Where were you when I graduated from Secondary School? Why did I have to take care of myself everytime when I got sick after I turned eleven? Why did I have to forge signatures or skip class field trips because you weren't there to sign the permission slips? What did you do when you learned I was being bullied? All you did was make me switch schools, and even </span>
  <em>
    <span>then, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you dragged your feet!” He yelled back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were being over-dramatic.” Louise scoffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Over-dramatic? </span>
  <em>
    <span>OVER-DRAMATIC? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was forced to hide in bathroom stalls at lunch </span>
  <em>
    <span>just to be able to eat!</span>
  </em>
  <span> You told me it's just drama, but look how that ended up; I ended up getting jumped by four guys! You didn’t even try to act worried, you said to my face that you believed my bullies and then </span>
  <em>
    <span>kicked me out of the house!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He screams, tears rolling down his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sobs loudly, not bothering to hide his bottled-up anger and frustration that had finally boiled over. He was hurt, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he wanted those monsters to see what they caused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Toms… oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>shh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>baby, come here. I’m right here.” Wilbur says, slowly walking towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy practically slams himself into Wilbur, hugging his guardian tight. He sobs again, but because of the relief he gets in the comfort of Wilbur’s embrace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you should leave.” Wilbur says, his fire replaced with ice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy flinches, despite knowing it's not directed towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-” his mother starts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said, it’s time for you to leave.” Techno chimes in, his shadow engulfing him and Wilbur, hiding them from his piece-of-shit ex-parents. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And somehow, that works. He’s only a little surprised; even though he knows Techno is a cuddly teddy bear of a man who just has a dark sense of humor, his ex-parents don’t know that. Suddenly, their little family is all together, hugging each other close in a sort-of dog pile. They stay like that for a while, until Wilbur reminds them that they need to go eat. The dog pile disembarks, each family going into different cars; Tubbo and Techno join Tommy and Wilbur, Phil and Kristin going in one car, and Tubbo’s parents going into another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The older of the four sits up front so Tommy and Tubbo can talk and joke around. The two teens share memes on their phones until they get bored and devise a plan; they’re going to annoy Wilbur into giving them the aux. Then they’re going to play the craziest songs </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Wilbur,” Tommy says, dragging out the r. “Can we listen to some music?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur smiles and nods. “Sure, bud. What do you want to play?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Score</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Tommy grins, and puts on his best “</span>
  <em>
    <span>innocent</span>
  </em>
  <span>” face. “Can I have the aux, please? It’s a surprise!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur sighs, knowing he’s not going to win this. “Fine, don’t play anything like 100 gecs, okay? I don’t want to crash the car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, Plan B then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy grins, thanks Wilbur, plugs the aux into his phone and immediately plays Kitchen Without Gun by Youseekenny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT TOMMY!” Wilbur yells lightheartedly, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy freezes, before relaxing and laughter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s not mad, you know this. You’re safe.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His mind whispers to him, and he agrees. How could he not? Wilbur’s proven that to him by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all laugh, Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo scream-singing the song, while Wilbur tries his hardest to drive through his laughter. The eldest of the four sighs with relief when the song is over, immediately speaking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> play something calmer. As much as I loved that, I don’t want to crash the car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy gives in, and plays his “</span>
  <em>
    <span>vibes</span>
  </em>
  <span>” playlist on remix. The first song to play is Thus Always to Tyrants by The Oh Hellos, a personal favorite. He relaxes into his seat, smiling when he sees the others do the same. Wilbur adjusts his rear-view mirror to look at Tommy, and Tommy looks into the reflection of the man’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t peg you to like this type of music, Tommy.” Wilbur asks, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy shifts in his seat. “Well- yeah, I do. Suck it up, Wilbur.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s not bad, I love this song.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all jam to the song, until it fades into </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somebody to You </span>
  </em>
  <span>by BANNERS, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr. Brightside </span>
  </em>
  <span>by The Killers, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fade To Blue</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Hollywood Undead (Wilbur was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>excited about that song), a few Taylor Swift songs, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s What You Get</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Paramore. But then one of Tommy’s all-time favorite songs plays,</span>
  <em>
    <span> The Horror and The Wild by The Amazing Devil. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur’s face lights up like he’s found the Holy Grail as he yells in excitement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, TOMMY! WHEN THE HELL DID YOU GET TASTE?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always had it, Wil!” He yells back, laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur laughs excitedly, joy sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah-Nope- yep, you’re definitely a Soot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy grinned impossibly wide at the words, butterflies swarming inside him, and heat blossoming on his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno chuckles. “How so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“ONLY SOOTS HAVE GOOD FUCKING TASTE!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He yells, laughing wildly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy busts out laughing, his heart swelling in size. Logically, he knows Wilbur’s joking, but he feels like a Soot, and not just in name. Him and Wilbur were family in every sense of the word, a connection they share through their similarities and their differences. They yell, they argue, they cry, they laugh, they joke around, they love, and they do it all together. They’re family, and Tommy wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s so comfortable with him, he feels less self-conscious with him. Maybe enough that he’s comfortable singing- actually singing- around him. He’ll actually try singing seriously around him, and not sabotage himself; He’s always done that, because his parents would make fun of his singing. They’d teased him to the point that he didn't want to sing and… well, that shows why they’re not his parents anymore, and why they weren’t his parents in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s decided, then. He’ll sing for Wilbur. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>true </span>
  </em>
  <span>parent. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Not that he’d ever say that out loud… he’s too scared of being rejected by him.)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>As that song ends, his favorite song </span>
  <em>
    <span>(besides Able Sisters) </span>
  </em>
  <span>comes on; Ultimately by Khai Dreams. It was like the universe had agreed with his decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God, he’s actually going to do this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, and began to sing along to the music.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Ultimately I don't understand a thing, I try to do the best I can, I know you try to do the same.” He sang, his voice shaky from his nerves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kept his head down in fear of the other’s reactions. “We're just so bound to make mistakes; You could call it a disposition. I apologize for all your tears, I wish I could be different, but I’m still growing up-” he cut off, taking a deep breath before beginning again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Into the one you can call your love… I don't know if I'll ever be enough. I'm throwing in my chips; I guess I tend to push my luck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy looks up in a moment of fear of rejection and hesitation, and he sees the awestruck faces of family and worries it's because of the worst possible reason; that it’s not positive, that they’re in awe of his audacity. He pushes those feelings down in favor of continuing the song. He has to do this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up into the rearview mirror, locking eyes with Wilbur’s as he sings the next lyric. “And ultimately, I believe we'll be okay- it's so cliché to say these things, but repetition is a key. I think I'm better when I'm with you, but I worry when you’re gone. I think I need to learn to love myself. I must learn to be strong.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks back down. “So, for now we'll say goodbye, although it pains me in my heart. Your words, they come to me in memories, they sing to me like songs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It won't be long until I'm here; soon I'll make my arrival. Under shady trees, A quiet street; The roads that I have traveled.’ He sang, smiling softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ultimately, it's a beautiful thing, like flowers blooming in a lonely field. The petals drift through crossing winds, they find their way to river streams that scent the water beautifully, it takes me back to you- It takes me back to you.” He sang the last lyric, and looked up as the instrumental played out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other men in the car were in varying states of shock; Tubbo was grinning with hazel eyes sparkling, Techno’s eyes were wide with a faint smile on his face, and Wilbur’s eyes were blown wide, a huge grin sketched over his slack-jaw expression. Were they happy, does that mean that they’re happy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno- Techno, I need you to pause the playlist. Tommy- holy fuck shit- I didn’t- What?!” Wilbur laughed incredulously, grinning like the madman he played on the SMP.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not mad at you- </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy shrunk in himself, muttering out a meek “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur looked back at him, eyes and smile still wide but with a confused look on his face. “What do you have to be fuck sorry for, dude, that was beautiful! I told you if you tried, you’d be good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I-” He began but was cut off by Techno groaning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is a twelve-year-old more talented than me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy splutters. “I-What-Hey! I am fucking sixteen! Shut up, dickhead!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The inhabitants of the car all bust out laughing, their smiles infectious. It was like the chime of the bell that Quasimodo rang, so clear, so loud that it could deafen him. It felt good to be the reason for that laughter. Tommy would make a fool of himself a thousand times over it made them laugh. As the laughter calms down, Wilbur begs him to sing again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, please, for me?” The eldest begs and Tommy sighs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won't stop until I do, won't you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope!” Wilbur grins. Karma, he guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy sighs and turns on another song, playing My Time by bo en, to cheers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo sat up abruptly, grinning at Tommy. “TASTEINNIT!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy laughs before beginning to sing. “</span>
  <span>Close your eyes, you'll be here soon. Ichi ni san shi go fun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tokidoki, hontou ni netai. Demo, kono waado dekinai.” He stumbled over the Japanese trying his hardest to sing it without slurring the words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oy-a-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi!” Tubbo sang, giggling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music swells and Tommy begins to sing a bit louder than before. “Oyasumi oyasumi, close your eyes and you'll leave this dream!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music pauses abruptly and brushes his blonde hair out of his face, tilting his head back. “Oyasumi oyasumi, I know that it's hard to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music changes again, the music getting techier and wilder. “Days go by, Shou ga nai. Moments pass, Shattered glass, Hands of time, Where's that chime? In my head. I'll just, I'll just, I'll just, I'll just- Hands… of time will wring my neck. Every little moment spells regret, but I don't have to feel this way, as a voice inside my head.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>““Oy-a-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi, O-ya-su-mi!” Tubbo sang again, swaying side to side in his seat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy begins singing again, this time joined by Tu</span>
  <span>bbo. “Oyasumi oyasumi, close your eyes and you'll leave this dream!” Tommy slings his arm over Tubbo. “Oyasumi oyasumi, I know that it's hard to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the music goes haywire, the car stops, and they’re parked in the parking lot of the nice Asian restaurant Wilbur’s said they were going to go to if- no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when-</span>
  </em>
  <span> they won. Tommy unplugs the aux, turning off the song, and unbuckles himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You guys ready?” Wilbur asks, and the three nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Food.” Tubbo says in a jokingly dazed way, and Tommy busts out laughing at the stupid look on his friend’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy hops out of the car as soon as Wilbur unlocks the child locks, and he shuts the door behind him. Wilbur gets out after him, ruffling his hair causing him to try in vain to fix his hair afterwards. Wilbur laughs, and Tommy rolls his eyes, swearing at the older man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you two ready to go?” Techno asks, and the two of them say yes, and Wilbur grabs Tommy’s hand leading him into the restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the time spent at the restaurant went well; the food was great, and more importantly, Tommy was safe with his family, with Wilbur. Tommy and Tubbo blew the paper wrappers off of the straws at each other and Techno rolled them up to flick at Wilbur and Phil. They’d even taken a picture of everyone together at dinner. He was safe, and happy, and full of good food, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh-so-sleepy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Out of a childish want to stay with his family and a little bit of embarrassment, he stifled his yawns and rubbed his sleepy eyes so no one could tell he was tired. But, as Wilbur reached over to rub to slow circles into his back, he felt his eyelids get heavy with content exhaustion. He subtly leaned his head on Wilbur’s shoulder, trying his best to hide an oncoming yawn, but he failed miserably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckled, pulling Tommy by shoulder, bringing him closer to him. “Alright, guys, I think someone’s sleepy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy unconsciously whines, shuffling his head to hide it in Wilbur’s shoulder. “I‘m nooot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not?” Wilbur chuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nooo.” He buries his head further into Wilbur’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur pulled him onto his lap so Tommy could cuddle close, and Tommy did just that, settling his head into the crook of Wilbur’s collarbone. Wilbur used his free hand to play with Tommy’s hair, and Tommy melted even further. God, he’s making it so hard to stay awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Toms, I think it’s time to go. Say goodbye to the other, okay?” Wilbur said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy looked into Wilbur’s chocolate brown eyes. “W’y do they hafta go?” His sleep addled mind replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur awed, and Tommy can faintly hear the others' silent awes as well, and pulled him closer.  “They have to go home, bud. You’ll see them soon, though. I promise.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy nodded before pausing. “Wha’ ‘bout Tech’?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s going to be staying with us!” He whispered excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy giggled, before tired nodding. “Okay, I wanna go home. ‘m tired.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur laughs quietly at that, nodding along. “Alright, go say bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy gets up, giving sleepy goodbyes to everyone but Techno. As he says his final goodbye to Tubbo, Wilbur comes over. He picks up the youngest, letting him rest on his hip. Tommy whines, clutching onto his dad. Wilbur bounces him on his hip, and Tommy falls even sleepier. They walk out of the restaurant, and the dark night sky riddled with stars is illuminated by the warm streetlights. The bounce of Wilbur’s step soothes him, and as Tommy’s placed into the backseat and buckled in by his dad, he feels a sense of Déjà vu. It’s like that fateful November night, but with a new perspective, with a new context. He’s not alone anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, Tommy. I’m so proud of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door shuts, and Tommy smiles as the familiar sound of Wilbur’s car starting up begins, and finally, he drives away. A soft song begins to play through the speakers of the car, and it finally soothes him to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p><em><span>“</span></em><em><span>The night sky once ruled my imagination</span></em><em><span>, n</span></em><em><span>ow I turn the dials with careful calculation.</span></em> <em><span>After a while, I thought I'd never find you</span></em><em><span>; I</span></em><em><span> convinced myself that I would never find you</span></em><em><span>. </span></em><em><span>When suddenly I saw you</span></em><em><span>.”</span></em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i gave y'all SO much fluff this time. </p>
<p>Don't get used to it. :)</p>
<p>If you could kudo and comment, that would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading, and have a nice day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. I hate to say it but the damage is done. I learnt to live without dependency and all it did was leave me fucking lonely.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In theory, it should be an easy mission; go to his childhood home (the place where a good chunk of his trauma comes from), retrieve his things, and leave. But, what would happen if things were doomed from the start?</p><p>Title Chapter from Cut on the Crease by Covey.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>NEW CHAPTER TIME, EVERYONE!</p><p>So... I said this chapter and the next chapter would hurt y'all. Well, this one will, but the next one won't. I had a plan for this chapter, but I had to split it between two chapters so... </p><p>I hope you all enjoy! :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy woke up to the sounds of muted voices and the warm light of the morning nudging him awake. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, his back popping as he did so. He sighed in relief, and sleepily got off the bed, stumbling his way out of his door. As carefully as the sleepy teen could, he walked downstairs, the sounds of the television became louder as well as the sounds of Wilbur and Techno talking.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Toms! Do you want me to put some Eggos into the toaster for you?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, nerd. How’d you sleep?” Techno asked, ruffling his hair as he walked by.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmmm, good.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckled, as he put the eggos into the toaster, pulling out the butter and a butter knife.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, when they pop you can butter them how you want.” He spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur slid the butter and the butter knife towards him, grinning. Tommy rolled his eyes, and definitely not pouting. (He was pouting.)</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You never do it right.” He grumbled out, and Wilbur laughed lightly,</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I not do it right? It’s putting butter on a frozen waffle, Tommy.” Wilbur said, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhmmm, but you put so much on. You fucking douse it in butter.” He whined.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not.” Wilbur argued.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucking do, Wil! You take a whole stick and just slather it on one waffle. It’s like having butter with a side of waffle!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno cackled at his comment, Wilbur going bright red and trying not to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur grinned at him, pointing his finger at him. “You absolute fucking child, I do not.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Da-Wha-Wil, yes you do!” Tommy said, catching himself from calling Wilbur </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Dad.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nailed it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur snapped up to attention, staring straight at him, and Tommy could feel Techno’s eyes on him too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Great,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, his face turning pink. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“He heard me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, did you nearly just call Wilbur </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Dad’</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” The pinkette questioned, and Tommy could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the grin in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy tensed, his face growing redder. “I-Wha-NO!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur cooed, cheekily grinning at him. “Awwww, Tommy, do you think of me as a father figure?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“NO-” Tommy cleared his throat. “No, I do not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s grin became softer, and so did his tone. “Tommy, you know it’s okay if you see me like that, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s cheeks grew even brighter, tensing even further. “WHA- I’m going back to bed.” He said, fully awake.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy got up to the protests of the other two men in the room, popping his eggos up early. He kept his head down as he scurried up the stairs, ignoring the jokes of Wilbur and Tommy. He walked down the hallway to his door and opened it, stepping inside. He closed the door as quickly as possible, hopping on his bed to eat his eggos. They were half-cooked and butter-less. Gross.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, his thoughts swirled in a panic about the situation. He said to himself that he’d never admit that Wilbur was his dad, so what was that? Why did he slip up like that? That’s never happened before.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s probably because I just woke up.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought to himself. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, that’s it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sat in his room for a while, even after his eggos were finished, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been in there. He’d just stare at the wall, stuck in his thoughts. He tried his best to avoid what happened downstairs, rather thinking about the SMP and his friends as well as the upcoming trip to his ex-parent’s house to retrieve his things. He tried to convince himself to go downstairs because his throat was dry and he was so thirsty- no, he can’t go, they’ll make fun of him. They will. But on the other hand… thirsty. There was no clear answer to him, so he sat there, stuck, trying to make a choice. He was never good with choices. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, the universe offered some divine intervention in the form of a knock on his door. Tommy gulped; looks like he has to face the music. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Toms, can I come in?” Wilbur’s muffled voice asked. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighed, and tucked his legs into his body, resting his head on his knees. Wilbur was going to be so mad; why wouldn’t he? Tommy just… left and said nothing. He completely ignored him. God, Wilbur’s going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, you there?” Wilbur asked, a bit louder.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy perked his head up, and said a subdued “Come in.” before shoving his heads into his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the door creak open, and a pair of footsteps softly walked until they stopped, and his bed creaked with the weight of a person sitting on it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Toms, you okay, sweetheart?” Wilbur said worriedly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“‘M sorry, Wil. I know I shouldn’t have ran out of there, I should’ve-” Tommy said, tears well up in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah, woah,” Wilbur cut him off, his voice softening even further, the worry becoming more evident. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey</span>
  </em>
  <span>, bubba, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m not mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy snapped his head up. “Wha-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette was frowning, eyes tightened into a worried look that made Tommy’s heart clench. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, I pushed you too hard. I should’ve given you your space and I’m sorry that I didn’t.” Wilbur apologized- wait, what.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why…” Tommy’s voice got caught in his throat, and he froze, trying to say the words he wanted to say.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why what, Toms?” Wilbur asked softly, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of Tommy’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked up at Wilbur, just below his eyes. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s face softened, and Tommy melted. “Toms, why would I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stuttered. “Wha-I dont fucking know- I just- I- ugh.” Tommy cupped his face with both his hands and rubbed his face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur rubbed comforting circles into his back with the palm of his hand. “It’s okay, take your time, bubs.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My paren… Christopher and Louise would be fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious </span>
  </em>
  <span>if I did that. They’d yell and tell me about how I’m such a bad son and that I should be respectful and not leave a room until they’re done speaking with me. They’re right and I’m sorry I stormed out like that.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy… buddy... You had every right to leave. You were too overwhelmed to voice your emotions. It’s okay, I’m not mad, I promise.” Wilbur said, pulling Tommy close.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tears welled up in Tommy’s eyes. “Why…” he took in a deep breath, trying to find the words. “Why aren’t you mad? They would be. I was mean to you. I was a bad son, you were just teasing me, you were being so nice. I just-” His voice cracks. “I just don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, bud, your parents were wrong for being mad. You’re not a bad son, you were just treated badly. I’m here, now, and I’m going to try my hardest to be the best parent I can be for you.” Wilbur said, and Tommy felt tears roll down his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But... I’m... I-” Tommy took a shaky breath. He began to slowly speak after a moment. “I’m trying my best to word this correctly because I can’t find the right words. It’s hard to talk about how I feel. But I… I just feel- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>just-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Tommy tries to suck in air despite his rising panic. “I’m unlovable. I’m nothing special; I’m just a bad kid and especially not a good son. If I had just been </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>, maybe mom and dad wouldn’t have left.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur frowned, pulling Tommy close to him. “Tommy, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>son, if you’ll have me. You’re so, so lovable, and not only by my standards! Remember how six other people came to our court hearing? Those six people, and even more on the SMP, and previous SMP’s care for you. They love you so much, Tommy, and especially me. You’re my boy, Tommy Soot, and you’re so loved. And if you forget that, I’ll guide you right back, firecracker. Cause you’re so much more loved than you’ll ever know.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the dam broke and Tommy launched himself at Wilbur, sobbing loudly. His body shook with the force of his tears as he held on tightly to his father. His father held him back, making Tommy relax a bit in his arms. Tommy was practically limp in his lap, Wilbur being the only thing keeping Tommy from slouching over and falling. The only thing that keyed Wilbur into knowing Tommy wasn’t passed out was his sobs and his hands clenching onto the front of his hoodie, right over his heart. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy felt like he couldn’t stop crying, like even though he’s cried a lifetime’s worth of tears, he’s crying enough to create an ocean. He panicked as he realized he couldn't stop, and panicked even further when he realized he couldn't catch his breath or speak. He weakly hit Wilbur’s chest with his fist, getting the man to look down at him, and mustered enough strength to mouth the word</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Help.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Immediately, Wilbur got into action.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before Tommy knew it, Wilbur was propping him up on the headboard, making sure he could sit up as straight as possible. Wilbur began helping him through breathing exercises, and Tommy tried his best to follow. Finally, Tommy began to calm down, much to not only Wilbur’s, but his own, relief. As his tears dried and his breathing finally slowed, he took in Wilbur’s appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The older man was disheveled, soft baby blue hoodie crumbled and stained with </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Tommy’s) </span>
  </em>
  <span>tears. His eyes were blown wide with worry, and a bit teary as well. Yet, his smile was soft and welcoming, as well as his posture. Tommy felt his heart ache at the sight, and made a silent vow that he’d never make his dad feel this way again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, big man.” Tommy said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looked at him with even more concern before speaking up. “No need to be sorry, Toms. I’d rather you let out your feelings in a safe environment than you bottling them up.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded before getting up from his position to hug Wilbur. “Thank you, Wilby. I love you.” He murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sighed, pulling him closer. “Love you too, firecracker. Now, would you like to stay down here or come downstairs?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go downstairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And the two did, and were greeted by Techno, sitting on the couch furiously typing on his phone. Tommy, made a shushing motion towards Wilbur before creeping up on Techno before yelling; “BOO!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno jumped and looked behind him as Tommy laughed his ass off. But Tommy’s eyes widen as he watches Techno get up, walk over to him and… fucking noogies him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanna try that again, gremlin child? I will eat your first born, bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to assume someone will trust me with children.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Children, the eldest is speaking, and he is telling you to shut the fuck up.” Wilbur chimes in, rolling his eyes at the two.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” The two younger guys said in unison, startling them both.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Dear God, that was fucking disgusting.” Techno said, disgruntled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck no, I only do that with Tubbo. Fuck off, bitch boy.” Tommy fake gagged.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> should fuck off? It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>fault that we synced up!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>How the fuck is it my fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you goddamn bastard! You look like a sad cosplay of your skin!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck you, you feral blonde-haired rodent! At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t kin my character!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“WHAT THE FUCK IS A KIN-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>CHILDREN</b>
  <span>!” Wilbur said, clapping three times. “Good, I have your attention? Wonderful. Now, both of you need to be quiet because I totally forgot we planned to go to Tommy's biological parents today to pick up his things. Now, Tommy are you still up for it or would you like to reschedule?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sighed. “As long as you make sure they can’t get close to me, I’m good. If they touch me, I’m going to rock their shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno ferally grinned. “You don’t need to worry about that, cause I’m going to make them into pretzels the moment they even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>of looking at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy fucking shit, Techno, protective much?” Tommy teased.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno ruffled his hair. “Well, considering Wilbur’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>dad </span>
  </em>
  <span>and all, I’d be a pretty shitty uncle if I’d let your shitty sperm and egg donors be shitty assholes to ya’.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy groaned. “Oh my God, I am going to punt kick you if you don’t stop, Technoblade.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur snorts. “Ah yes, TommyInnit vs Technoblade, The Pit Part 2.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy laughs at that, swaying back and forth lightly as he flaps his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno snickers, rubbing his fists together happily. “I’m just gonna win again.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy points at him, laughing. “You wish, bitch boy!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno rolls his eyes. “Do you know any other insults, child?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep! But if I say them, I think Wil’s going to get all parental on me.” He says, still swaying back and forth.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno rolls his eyes, exasperated. “Then whisper it in my ear, dummy.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy leans over, whispers the insult through giggles as Techno’s eyes widen and his face pales.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How the fuck did you know that one?” He asks incredulously. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy turns on his phone, and begins to speak. “Hey, Siri, play Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood.” Tommy giggles as the familiar notes play through his phone speakers.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The three burst out laughing, and eventually calm down enough for Wilbur to shepherd them into the car. The ride to Tommy’s childhood was only an hour long, but it felt like a lifetime of anxiety for Tommy. What would they say? What’s left for him to grab? Will they try and hurt him? Will they try to hurt his family? Luckily, Wilbur and Techno did a wonderful job of dispersing those negative thoughts with banter and a sing-along. By the time they’d finally arrived at the old house Tommy was calm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As the boy looked up at his former house, he realized that this was the first time he’d seen in nearly three months. Not much had changed; only the dying grass being covered by snow. Same old white house with a light blue door and fake shutters as well as grey shingled roof surrounded by an iron gate. It made Tommy almost proud that this shitty house that he grew up in, the house he grew up lonely and alone in, is his past; it’s a footnote in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They opened the gate and walked up to the painted wooden door and knocked. The sound of Betty and Walter barking just about broke his heart; God, he missed those pups. Finally, the door opened to show his fath- Christopher standing there, frowning. The dogs were bouncing at his feet trying to get to him; he couldn’t help but smile at the dogs’ familiar energy and antics. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Tommy.” He flatly said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked down, ignoring the man. He didn’t want to talk to him. Not now, not ever.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Christopher. We’re just here to pick up Tommy’s stuff.” Wilbur said, pulling Tommy behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher ignored Wilbur, looking straight at Tommy. “They’re in your old room. Your mother isn’t home, so you have some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Thanks.” Wilbur said bitterly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno pushed past Christopher, allowing Tommy to feel safe to walk behind Wilbur. Once the two were in, Techno stood behind him. Tommy tensed, taking in his childhood home. He felt an odd wave of sad nostalgia hit him; it was like a mutated strand of the flu or strep, hitting him hard. Tommy grabbed onto Wil’s hand, squeezing it. He sighed in relief when Wilbur squeezed back. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, Toms, you ready?” Wilbur asked, and Tommy nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The trio walked over to the stairs and Wilbur went up first, waiting for Tommy at the top. But, as Tommy stepped on the first step, he felt his panic rise, bubbling up in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can do this. I can do this.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He repeatedly murmured to himself under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> He looked up at Wilbur, the man’s smile driving him to walk up the second step, before he promptly broke down sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy collapsed into himself, covering his head with his arms and his legs drawn to his chest. He leaned onto the stair rails for support, breathing heavily. He felt strong arms wrap around him, and then someone yelled for the arms to get off him. He can’t tell if it was him, or if it was his dad or Techno, but finally the oppressive arms were gone, and Tommy sunk into himself further. He heard familiar soft voices, but they sounded like he’d sunken to the bottom of the ocean and they were at the surface watching him slowly drowning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, it’s Wilbur, can you hear me?” A voice cut in and Tommy looked up in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad?” He asked through broken sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m right here-” Another voice said, before Wilbur cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, bubba it’s me.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy launched himself at Wilbur, clinging to the older man. “Dad, I can’t do it, I can’t. I can’t go up there.” He sobbed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh, it’s okay, baby, you don’t have to. I’m so proud of you for trying. I love you so much.” Wilbur rubbed familiar circles into his back.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see it all, Dad, I can see the glass and the blood, I don’t want to-” He choked on his words.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, I understand, you don’t have to go up there. Me and Techno will grab all your stuff and you don’t have to do a thing. I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t- I can’t-” Tommy whined, pulling at his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, soft hands pried his hands away from his hair, gently telling him not to pull his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilby, why do I feel this way? I don’t want to feel this way.” Tommy said through sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re we going to do-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur gently cut in. “Techno’s going upstairs to grab your clothes and stuff right now. I’m not leaving you; I promise. Phil’s almost here too, he’s coming up to help Techno.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“O-Okay.” He sobs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Toms, do you want or need anything?” Wilbur asks him gently.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Betty, Walter, please.” He replies.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course.” Wilbur says, and calls the dogs over, who come barreling at Tommy. Walter sniffs his left hand before licking it gently, and Tommy couldn’t help but sob in relief. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>dogs </span>
  </em>
  <span>were okay, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>family </span>
  </em>
  <span>were okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>was okay. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to be okay.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Walter nudged his hand and Tommy raised his arm, allowing the dog to rest on his side. He relaxed, petting Walter on the head slowly. He relaxed even further as Betty walked up the stairs to face him head-on, before lying on top of him. He pets the black lab with his other hand, giggling when she licks his chin lazily. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Be-tty, stauhp-” Betty accidentally licks his open mouth. “Ew, Betty, gross!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur chuckles, giving the dog a couple pats on her back and ruffles Tommy’s hair. Tommy leans into the touch, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You feel better, Tommy?” Wilbur asks, and Tommy dazedly nods, somehow calm from the weight of Betty on his chest, and Walter on his side.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, even though Betty won’t stop licking me.” Tommy giggled as Betty licked him again. “I like when she lays on top of me, it’s nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur perked up and Tommy looked at him in confusion; what had he said?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Is it the pressure?” Wilbur asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy pauses, thinking to himself for a moment, before he decided that yes, it was the pressure. It was just so nice and warm.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably. Also, that it’s Betty, she’s a good dog.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looked at him thoughtfully, and Tommy unconsciously tilted his head in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm alright.” Wilbur said, and they moved on.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He stays like this until Phil arrives, who makes sure Tommy and Wilbur are okay, and gives the dogs a few pats too. As the elder blonde heads upstairs, Christopher walks over to the staircase, standing right in front of the first step. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright, son?” Christopher asks, and Wilbur snarls.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s fine.” Wilbur pulls him closer and the dogs whine, coming closer to Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the dogs missed you, Toms. I missed you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy froze, and Wilbur began viciously yelling at Christopher.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How. </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare.</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How fucking dare, you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After all that you did to him, you have the </span>
  <em>
    <span>gall </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say you miss him? You fucking neglected and abused him, you asshole! He’s just a kid, and you hurt him! You have no right to say you miss him!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, but I genuinely did miss my-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t get to call me that.” Tommy spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Call you what, munchkin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Munchkin. Your son.” He blandly says, his hands shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>my son,</span>
  <em>
    <span> you are </span>
  </em>
  <span>my munchkin!” Christopher insists. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not, you don’t get to call me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And what, he does?” Christopher snarled, pointing at Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher paused, looking at Tommy as if he’d just threatened death upon the Queen. Tommy shrank under his gaze, trying to become as small as humanly possible. Panic rose as if it were bile in his throat as Christopher scowled and scrutinized him in anger and disappointment. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he fucked up; but he knew better than that. He’d been working so hard over the past two months, for the Queen’s sake, he’s even gone through a damn custody trial. He can do this. He doesn’t have to fear the man that fathered him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m disappointed in you, son, for letting these men brainwash you. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to letting you become a streamer, you’d never make it out there. You need to face the real world, not this online fantasy you’ve created.” Tommy felt his stomach drop at Christopher’s words. “You were such a good boy when you were younger; so kind, so eager to help. What happened to that boy? What happened to</span>
  <em>
    <span> my </span>
  </em>
  <span>boy?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened.” Tommy glared at the man, hoping if he glared hard and long enough, he’d leave.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Christopher’s tone was icy, but Tommy knew the sun was right beside him; he’s got nothing to fear. So why was he so scared?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You happened. You-” Tommy swallowed back tears. “You hurt me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher glared. “Tommy, I’ve done no such thing. You are just delusional because of these monsters that took you away from me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>making </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>bend to </span>
  <em>
    <span>their </span>
  </em>
  <span>will.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur’s right here, no one’s going to hurt him. He’s okay. There are no more plates being thrown, no more being thrown out at 16, no more isolation. He is loved.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> made me obedient, pliant to your every command like I was so fuckin- some fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>dog</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m human, don’t you know that? I’m a person, but you don’t like what comes with that. You wanted an obedient son who believes every word you say- but fuckin’ news flash, big man, it doesn’t work like that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You don’t own me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Tommy said, trying his best to not fucking throw up on the spot. Jesus Christ, why was this so fucking hard?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know I don’t, Toms-” he began.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t get to call me that.” Tommy interrupted, but Christopher spoke over him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><span>“But you act like </span><em><span>they </span></em><span>own </span><em><span>you.</span></em> <em><span>My </span></em><span>poor </span><em><span>baby</span></em><span>, </span><em><span>my </span></em><span>poor </span><em><span>son</span></em><span>.” Christopher baby talked to him, walking closer.</span></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, footsteps barreled towards the three, and Techno was putting himself between the three.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got a problem here, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Techno asked venomously, sarcastically spitting out the “sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Christopher gulped, and stepped back down the stairs. ‘Not at all, young man. I’ll leave you all be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno glared. “You two alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded as Wilbur spoke up. “Yes, Techno. Thank you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno crouched down to Tommy, and handed him something soft.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-” Tommy began, but stopped short as he looked down at the stuffed animal in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The plushie was a black dog, with bright brown glass eyes, and a stitched-on doggy-esque smile. It was an old plushie, and the namesake of his (?) dog Betty. He hugged the plush dog close even though he knew the real Betty was at his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember you said you wanted to get her today, and Phil found her under your bed. I know today’s really shitty, but I hope that at least this helps.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Tommy muttered out, shoving his face into the stuffie’s fur. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno ruffled his hair, whispered something to Wilbur, and went back upstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Toms, we gotta move soon so Techno and Phil can bring stuff downstairs. Can you get up for me, firecracker?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods, gently pushing the dogs off of him, and hauling himself up, leaning on the stairs’ railing for support. Wilbur stood up too, going in front of Tommy to shepherd the dogs away from Tommy. Once the path was clear, Tommy walked down, his legs shaking. Wilbur caught him when he nearly slipped, then held him close and helped him until they were sitting in the living room. Tommy refused to sit on the couch, and rather sat on the floor so he could pet the dogs. Tommy knew Wilbur was keeping watch of him, but even as he was immersed with Betty and Walter’s antics, the thought of Christopher and Louise’s fury and disappointment was intruding the back of his head. It was like a parasite sucking the life out of him, but the dogs were able to keep it at bay until they could leave.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, everything was packed into Wilbur and Phil’s cars, and Tommy was saying goodbye to the dogs. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he teared up as he said goodbye, knowing this was his last time he’d probably ever see them. It hurt him in a way that some may see as trivial, but these dogs were his anchor during his childhood. It was agonizing to say goodbye and leave them with monsters. But he managed to say his goodbyes and ignore Christopher’s parasitic behavior. He got into Wilbur’s car sitting behind Wilbur in the backseat. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As Techno and Wilbur got in the car, he greeted them, feeling more tired than before. The two men began to speak, and Tommy understood </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it. It just didn’t process. But what did process was their eyes on him. They seemed… expectant? Fuck, Tommy didn’t know. Maybe they were pissed. He was too tired to try to understand. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you hear what I said, Toms?” Wilbur asked him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… no.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Too tired for an emotional conversation.” Tommy muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. Would you like something to eat?” Wilbur asked him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want Maccies or something else?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Maccies is fine, Wil.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded, and went back to driving. A few minutes later they pulled into a McDonalds Drive Thru, and Wilbur took all their orders, relaying them to the cashier. Eventually, they’d paid and gotten their food, and dug into it in the parking lot. Phil, who’d been following them, soon pulled into the spot next to them. They’d decided to get a 40 piece to share amongst the 3 of them, whilst Phil got a burger. They’d all had about 12 nuggets each, bar a couple Phil stole from them. They’d gotten two large fries to share too, and a few had been thrown at Phil when he tried to steal more chicken nuggets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time they’d finished their food, Tommy was even more tired, and nodding off in the back seat despite his best efforts. It didn’t help that he was cuddling Betty, the plushie’s soft fur making him sleepier. But, he persisted on trying to stay awake; he had to be awake to help everyone unpack. After the tenth time of him waking himself up, Wilbur spoke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, kiddo. You can go to sleep. We’ll still be here when you wake up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘You p’omise?” He asked, clutching Betty close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I promise.” Wilbur replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I promise too, nerd.” Techno joined in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded, and muttered out; “Goodnigh’, Da’. Goodnigh’ Techie.” before he was out cold, not even hearing the goodnights from Wilbur and Techno.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I swear this chapter was supposed to be more wholesome- but things go wrong, right? Don't worry, you're still getting your cute moments. But you're still getting chapter 8... :)</p><p>If you could kudo and comment, that would be greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading, and have a nice day!</p><p>Twitter: @stressedoutstrs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Feet firm on the ground, we stood hand in hand and I told the world that I have a plan. Together we sang, “I'm ready now.”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy forgets what happened the night before, and a startling realization ensues.</p><p>Afterwards, the boys go shopping, meet a rude lady, fix up Tommy's room, and Tommy realizes; he's ready now.</p><p> </p><p>Chapter Title is from Ready Now by Dodie.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! Yeah, that new tag, huh… We need to have a talk.</p><p>Age regression has a bad rep on the internet, and it can seem daunting if you know virtually next to nothing about it.</p><p>Let’s get one thing straight- Age regression is NOT DDLG. FUCK DDLG AND ITS VARIANTS. NEVER sexualize children or a child-like mindset, that is fucking DISGUSTING. Age regression is when a person of ANY age regresses to a younger mindset for various reasons. For example, Tommy in this story regresses because of stress and trauma. It helps him, and it is a certified healthy coping mechanism. I even checked in with my therapist for this.  </p><p>Many regressors do regress to regain a lost childhood. Tommy does this as well. It helps him, and it might seem strange, but it is a real coping mechanism. He regresses involuntarily, and voluntarily. Both can be because of positive or negative triggers. He involuntarily regresses once because of a negative trigger, and partially involuntarily regresses because of a positive trigger. </p><p> </p><p>A lot of regressors have an age range (if you don't that's completely valid!) and Tommy's is approximately 1-6 years old. He get's pretty young when he's sleepy, and is ADORABLE.</p><p>I’m very scared to post this chapter. I’ve been contemplating it for weeks, and I finally finished it today so I’m ready. With the support of others around me, I’m ready to post this. </p><p>If things get bad, I’m going to have to either moderate comments, put on user-only mode, or turn them off completely. I hope this doesn’t happen, but it might so I have to be prepared, and I will NOT fucking hesitate to do so. </p><p>Thank you for understanding if you did, and I hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy barely remembered last night, but what he got out of it was this.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur, Phil, and Techno put his boxes into his room, then as they tried to get him out of the car and into bed, he woke up. He barely remembers what happened after, just a fuzziness around the edges of the memory like a vignette. What he does remember is warmth and comfort, long arms cuddling him closely, some high-pitched giggling, and the taste of warm milk. He thinks it was confusing, but needed. Well, he’s not going to dwell on it. He’s got more important matters to attend.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Breakfast was a gentle and quiet affair with a slight buzz of excitement coursing through. Wilbur had made pancakes, and it went smoothly with only minor hiccups, like how he nearly messed up the flip one time. Tommy had giggled at that, and Wilbur and Techno looked at him as if they were waiting for something. He just shrugs it off, opting to bully Wilbur and cursing the shit out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, the pancakes were good, and so was the apple juice put in front of him in a blue plastic cup. He had chocolate chips in his pancakes at his request, as well as on top of the pancake stack. He devoured them in minutes, tearing into them without cutting them. He smiled when he finished, thanking Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, Tommy.” He had said sweetly, before focusing on something on Tommy’s face. “Toms, you’ve got something on your cheek.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur pointed to the left side of his cheek and Tommy went to wipe it away when apparently, he had missed it. Wilbur tried correcting him again, but he missed it again. So, Wilbur reached over and wiped away the leftover pancake from his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“There you go, sweetheart.” He had said as Tommy blushed bright red, feeling a lot smaller than before.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He mumbled a thank you and looked away, preferring to drink some apple juice out of the cup. At some point, the cup nearly slipped out his hands, so he just used both hands to drink, even if it made him feel childish. He was a bit small, after all. He had nearly finished the juice when Techno spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Toms, how old are you, buddy?” Tommy had choked on his apple juice before looking up at the man.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, darling, it’s okay to be little; we’d love to take care of you, firecracker.” Wilbur had gently said, pushing some strands of Tommy’s bed head out of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looked at him quizzically, and when Tommy looked to his left at Techno, the other man looked just as confused. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, baby, do you remember last night?” Wilbur asked gently.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha- no, it’s all fuzzy. Why- oh.” He must have slipped last night. “Did I-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno nodded, “Yeah, buddy, you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy blushed, groaning as he placed his head in his hands, his elbows on the cool countertop of the bar-top counter in the kitchen. How’d he let himself regress in front of them? This was one of his secrets he planned to take to his grave; he always tried to hide it the best he could, playing it off as sleepiness or because of his anxiety, so why now? What happened last night?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Toms. We’re not mad.” Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy perked his head up, looking at him. “Really?” His voice was slurred and high pitched because of him suddenly slipping at the gentle kindness.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno chuckled. “Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy whimpered as he slipped further into littlespace, crashing his body into Techno’s. The toddler-minded boy clung to the young adult’s soft grey hoodie, burying his face into the warmth. It was just as safe and comforting as Wilbur, and he couldn’t help but slip down further to a toddler. He felt a large hand pat his back and pull him onto Techno’s lap, and he cooed when the hand started rubbing his back. Tommy slipped his thumb into his mouth, suckling gently on the digit.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any little gear, baby boy? We tried to ask you last night, but you were too small to respond.” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded, slipping off of Techno’s lap to grab Wilbur’s hand with his free hand, leading him up to his room. He hopped up the stairs one at a time, giggling and counting each one behind his thumb. But he was being very careful to not fall because he was quite the clumsy little. Tommy whined when he got to the shut door but luckily Techno, who had been following them, opened it for them. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“T’ank you, Techie!” He thanked, giggling.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, baby.” He chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy walked in, giggling when he saw Betty on the bed. He let go of Wilbur's hand to walk- it was more like a clumsy stumble- to his bed and grab the stuffed dog. He rubbed the dog’s soft fur on his face, giggling at the texture. She was just so fluffy!</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that all, little one?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy pouted and shook his head. “Nuh-uh!” He exclaimed, before walking over to his closet, grabbing his backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He plopped onto the floor, releasing his grip on Betty and his thumb from his mouth to clumsily open the bookbag. At the bottom, under a yellow sweater he’d purposefully put in there, was seven hidden items; a red pacifier with a white handle made for littles, a crinkly teether, a soft red blanket with white stars, a plushie of a Minecraft cow, a baby bottle with patterns of stars, and a light blue sippy cup. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Look-it, Papa! Hewe it is!” Tommy exclaimed cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sat down next to him, careful to not sit on any of the items on the floor. He ruffled Tommy’s messy locks, and the little leaned into the touch. Wilbur moved his hand to inspect the items, mumbling something about the stuff needing to be washed. Bored, Tommy babbled, reaching for the red and white pacifier, before Wilbur stopped him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, darling, I have to wash that first.” He calmly corrected him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy whined but allowed Wilbur to grab the things that needed to be washed. As Wilbur stood up, Techno came over to cuddle him. Tommy babbled, reveling in the close comfort. Techno played with Tommy’s hair while quietly talking to the little. Before long, Wilbur came back with a clean pacifier. Tommy allowed his father to slip the pacifier in his mouth, and he immediately felt calmer.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Toms, I forgot. Which one do you want; sippy cup or bottle?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“S’ppy!” Tommy exclaimed around the pacifier.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what do you want to drink, water or juice?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Appie Juice, p’ease.” Tommy asked, and Wilbur nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, baby. Good manners, firecracker. I’ll be back soon, okay? Why don’t you and Techno play with your stuffies, little one?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy giggled excitedly, shoving the cow plushie into Techno’s hands. “'Kay, Papa! P'ay, Techie, p’ay!” He cheered. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno nodded, taking the plush cow, and handing Betty over to Tommy. The two made up a story where Betty and the cow, whose name was Henry, were having a dance off. Betty won the first round and Henry won the second, and Tommy pouted until Techno told him that meant that they could have a big finale round to break the tie. Betty won the grand finale, and Tommy cheered. Techno had let the little win, but Tommy didn’t need to know that. Wilbur had come back in the middle of the second round, and handed Tommy his sippy cup full of apple juice. The little had taken it gratefully, sipping the juice in between rounds and turns. By the time the juice was done Tommy felt even smaller, and a bit sleepy too. He yawned as he cuddled into Wilbur’s body, propping himself up by laying in between the man’s legs, head resting on Wilbur’s chest. Wilbur carded his hand through Tommy’s hair, the little leaning into the soft scratches. Techno stood up, grabbing the empty sippy cup to go wash it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Toms, would you like anything else to drink?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded, and answered “Baba, p’ease, Bubba!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, do we have a baby Tom-Tom on our hands?” Wilbur cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy whined behind his paci and snuggled further into his dad.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want milk, Toms?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded. “Ang’l m’lk!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno paused. “I don’t know what that is. I’m gonna have to look that up first, sorry baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy whined, tears filling his eyes. Logically, his big mind knew he'd have to wait, but he wasn’t big right now. He was just barely above one, a lot smaller than his four-year-old mind from before. He really wanted angel milk, and Bubba didn’t know what that was. He’s gonna have to wait </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Tom-Tom, it’ll only be just a moment, I promise.” Techno gently said, before leaving the room to go get him some warm milk.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy whined at the loss of Techno before Wilbur cuddled him. “Oh Honeybun, it’s okay. Do you want something to play with while you wait?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy reached for the crinkly teether, before falling straight on his face, unable to hold himself up. He whined even louder this time, tears rolling down his face as he sniffled. His nose hurt and he was tired, and thirsty, and he wasn’t happy that he had to wait. His paci had also fallen out when he fell over and now it was all dirty; on top of it all, he still doesn't have the teether!</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dada!” He cried pitifully, and Wilbur immediately pulled the boy up from his position.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh baby, it’s alright, Dada’s got you. You’re okay.” Wilbur soothed, guiding the baby-minded child into his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy cried, and buried his heavy head into Wilbur’s shirt. The older man rubbed circles into his back, soothing the boy. Wilbur handed him the crinkly teether and Tommy eventually stopped crying, enchanted with the noises the elephant-shaped teether made. Tommy squished and crinkled it, occasionally gnawing on the item.  By the time Techno came back, Tommy was even sleepier, despite it being only a couple hours after he woke up. Babies sleep a lot, after all. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur picked up Tommy with ease, laying him down on his back on the bed before getting up on the bed himself, handing the dirty pacifier to Techno to wash. He laid back, his back resting against the wall, grabbed Tommy, and cradled him. Techno ruffled Tommy’s hair and planted a kiss on his forehead before walking out of the room to go wash the soother.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok Tom-Tom, Bubba got you milk, can I feed you?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded and made grabby hands for the bottle. Wilbur guided it to him, and Tommy drank from it greedily as Wilbur held it in place, occasionally pulling it away so Tommy didn't choke. Techno entered the room at some point, sitting to the left of Wilbur and Tommy so he could play with Tommy’s hair. His baby blue eyes drooped as he got closer to finishing the bottle full of warm milk. By the time he was a little under three quarters of the way done, he shied away from the bottle and hid his face in Wilbur’s chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat. His thumb sneaked into his mouth and he suckled on it as Wilbur and Techno chatted. There was a pause in the conversation, and with his eyes closed Tommy felt his thumb being removed and the cleaned pacifier being placed in his mouth. He babbled out a babyish </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you” </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he fell asleep to the sounds of Wilbur and Techno talking softly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When Tommy woke up, it was with arms wrapped around him. The owner of said arms were texting on their phone, and Tommy made out the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Philza Minecraft</span>
  </em>
  <span> before he looked up. There was Wilbur, who was gently smiling at him. His brown eyes were crinkled at the edges, and he looked completely and wholly content. Tommy decided he could stay here forever.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi, Toms. How big are you, baby?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I'm not-" he yawned, stretching his sleepy joints. "little if that's what you're asking."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur smiled and nodded. "Alrighty, then. You wanna get up and go get lunch then, Tommy?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck yeah, I'm starving." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur released the teen and Tommy got up, shoving the blankets to the edge of the bed. Wilbur got up after him, ruffled his hair, and walked behind him as they left Tommy's room. Tommy walked past Techno, who was sitting on the couch playing Minecraft on his laptop. Tommy paused and walked behind the pink haired man.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bedwars again, Tech?” Tommy asked, peering at his screen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep. Beating up nerds again.” Techno paused, and then looked at Tommy with wide eyes. “Wait- uhm- shi- fuck- uh, are you small right now?” He panicked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy burst out laughing. “Nah, big man, you’re good. I’m just fuckin’ hungry, not regressed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno sighed in relief. “Oh, thank fuck, I thought I just said that to tiny you.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I think Wilbur would’ve killed ya’ if that was the case.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably.” Wilbur shouted from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As you should, man. Anyways, what’re you guys going to have for lunch? I haven’t had anything yet, so I’ll probably just have what you’re having.” Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh, Wilbur what are we having for lunch?” Tommy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t fucking know, we have fries and chicken nuggets, some Macaroni and Cheese, or we could just have sandwiches.” Wilbur replied, digging through the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhhh, what’re you down to have, guys?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Something quick, preferably, unless you’re not feeling up to going shopping anymore today, guys.” Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m good, you good Tommy?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no I’m fine, I usually feel recharged after I regress so I’m good. Sandwiches, then? Quickest thing there.” Tommy said to the two men.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. What sandwiches do you guys want?” Wilbur asked, stepping into the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have cold cuts?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, chicken and ham, what do you want?” Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Chicken, please. Do you mind if I make it, man?” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go right ahead,” Wilbur motioned for Techno to go into the kitchen. “Tommy, chicken with honey mustard?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You know it, big man.” Tommy said, and Wilbur ruffled his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sits at the counter, waiting for Techno and Wilbur to be done. As soon as Techno finished his, Wilbur was just finishing up his own. Tommy got up to take Techno’s place when Wilbur turned around and placed down a sandwich in front of him. Tommy went to slide it over to Wilbur’s spot when Wilbur stopped him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Toms, that’s yours.” Wilbur corrected, sliding the plate back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy went beet-red, and sputtered. “Wha- Da- I can do it myself, you know. I’m a big man, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur tilted his head slightly, softly smiling at him. “I know, kiddo. Just let me take care of you, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy blushed brighter. ‘I don’t need you to do that for me, big man.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I wanted to, though. Now shush and eat your sandwich, gremlin child.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy grumbled, but began to eat his sandwich. No need to waste a perfectly good sandwich, after all. Soon, Wilbur joined him and Techno, and the three of them ate in moderate silence. By the time all three of them were done, Wilbur was unloading the dishwasher, and placing their dirty plates in. Techno was scrolling on his phone, and quietly laughed at some meme, probably.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you two ready to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, big man, of course! Y’all still good?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Tommy but I think you still need to get dressed.” Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean-” he looked down to see he was still in his pajamas. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He only then realized that he was the only one in pajamas still. Techno was fully dressed in an outfit consisting of Bad’s 2 million muffin’s hoodie in black, and some blue jeans. Wilbur was dressed as well, a red sweater under black jacket and black slacks, with another one of his damn beanies on his head. Tommy didn’t hate them, per say, but Wilbur had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking variety in hats. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy flushed a light pink before getting up. “I’m gonna go get dressed really quick.” He said, hurrying up the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Brush your teeth, gremlin!” Wilbur called after him and Tommy rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His dad could be so overprotective sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy brushed his teeth, then got dressed so he didn’t ruin his clothes. He threw on his Schlatt &amp; Company (he should say hi to the fucker, see how his preparations for his move to Texas are going) hoodie, and some washed out denim jeans. He combed his hair quickly as well, before rushing back downstairs to his family. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay fuckers, I’m ready now!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looked him up and down before speaking up. “Good. You brushed your teeth, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy groaned. “Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Can I go get my coat on now, or do I have to go brush my teeth</span>
  <em>
    <span> again?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He snarked, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, you’re fine Tommy. Go get your coat on.” Wilbur said, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank fuck.” Tommy grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that gremlin child?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, Dad!” Tommy called out as he walked to the coat closet, grabbing out his blue puffer coat, slipping it on and zipping it up. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I thought.” Wilbur yelled back, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy rolled his eyes as he put on his black snow boots, tying the laces, and putting the Velcro into place. God, Wilbur was so annoying. He loved him, though. Tommy pulled his gloves out of his pockets, and slipped them on. They were soft and he loved them dearly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur and Techno came over and both slipped on their shoes, and once they were already Wilbur turned off the lights but left the hallway light on. They all stepped out into the late-January air of Brighton, and Tommy wiggled his toes in his snow boots, itching to jump into the snow piles outside his home. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy do not jump into the snow piles. We have to go out.” Wilbur reminded him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked up at him, and sneaked a foot into the closest pile, giggling. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, don’t you dare.” Wilbur warned, almost daring Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stepped another foot in and started laughing even harder as he packed the snow together into a ball.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy Soot, don’t you dare.” Wilbur warned him again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy ignored him, instead throwing the snowball straight at his face. It hit its target and he burst into hysterical laughter as Wilbur froze, slowly blinking through the snow. He heard Techno laughing in the background as Wilbur wiped it off his face and looked straight at Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucked up, kid.” Techno said, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy paled, his hysterical laughter pausing into only occasional giggles he was holding in. Wilbur was staring straight into his soul with a hint of amusement behind his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad?” He asked nervously as the man continued to stare.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you to stop, Tommy.” Wilbur said sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy froze, paling even further. Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he fucked up, Dad was mad at him, he didn’t listen and now he was angry. He hoped he wasn’t too mad, maybe then he’d just get yelled at. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur spoke up again. “You didn’t listen,” Tommy knew he didn’t, he was so sorry. “And now you’ve got to pay the price.” He said while grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s breathing started to pick up, and he felt tears well in his eyes. Oh, he was so mad. Tommy was done for.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur stopped, before looking at him confusedly. “Tommy, what’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I made you mad, I shouldn’t have done that-” Tommy rambled, tears threatening to fall.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, honey, I was joking around. I was gonna throw a snowball back at you.” He said, frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Tommy asked him, sniffling.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Toms. Would you like a hug?” Wilbur asked, opening up his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded, wiping his tears away and walked over and hugged Wilbur tightly. Wilbur held him back, apologizing for scaring him. The two ended the hug after a couple minutes with Wilbur pressing a kiss to Tommy's forehead, and an arm slung over the younger's shoulder. The group of three walked to the furniture store, which was a fifteen-minute walk from home.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When they entered Wilbur pulled out his phone. He explained he had a list of the things Tommy needed and that he could pick out whatever he wanted. So, Tommy made his way around the store, checking off as many things as possible at a reasonable price. He picked out a nice L-shaped desk, a bed frame with a matching bedside table, and a tall chest all made of the same caramel colored wood. He was planning on painting the drawers on the items white as well! He also picked out a circular cream-colored area shag rug that was incredibly soft to match with his things. Finally, he picked out a white wooden bookshelf. Once Tommy was happy with his selections, Wilbur went to pay, and Tommy paused.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought I was paying?" Tommy asked, tilting his head in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur looked at him with knitted eyebrows and an odd look in his eyes. "Tommy, I'm your father, I'm paying for your things."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"But I'm supposed to pay! That's how it has always been; the adults pay for the small things and I pay for the big stuff." Tommy states, and he watches in bewilderment as Wilbur places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him with sudden seriousness.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Tommy, I know that's how it worked with your birth parents but that's not how it works here. They shouldn't have made you pay for all those big things, just small payments for little toys or trinkets. I pay for things like your furniture and clothes because I'm an adult and your parent, and if you want to you can buy yourself fun little things if you want to. You shouldn't and won’t be paying for big purchases under my roof until you've got your feet on the ground and in your own place. Okay?" Wilbur says, and Tommy nods.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. Now, I'm going to pay, why don't you go sit with Techno? I'm sure he'd love your company while I'm doing all this boring stuff." Wilbur requested and Tommy nodded and did so, giving him a quick hug before jogging over to Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey kid, What's up?" Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Dad told me to come over here and wait for him to finish paying." Tommy replied.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, cool. Wanna watch me beat all these nerds at Among Us?" </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hell yeah. Who are you playing with?" Tommy asks, moving so he was standing next Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Just some fuckin' randos. I'm Imposter too, fuck yeah."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno killed the cyan character, subsequently winning him the game. He high-fived Tommy, and cackled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck yeah, let’s go, Techno!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur, walked over, grinning. “What’s going on, guys?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just beat a bunch of randos in Among Us.” Techno replied, looking up at Wilbur to grin at him lazily.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ayyy nice! I paid for your stuff, Tommy. We just have to pick you up some new pillows at the store along with a couple of groceries.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright let's go, then!” Tommy said, and Wilbur nodded, ruffling his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The three left the furniture store and walked over to the nearby grocery store, making small talk on the way there. Once they entered, the damn place was </span>
  <em>
    <span>packed.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Wilbur gripped Tommy’s hand, and Tommy grabbed onto Techno’s.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay Tommy, stay by me alright? Techno, you as well since you’re new here.” Wilbur demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The two agreed, and they made their way through the packed store. Quickly, Wilbur diverted to the buggies, grabbing one and immediately steering to the produce section. He got to work, employing Tommy and Techno to grab the fruits while he grabbed the vegetables. They worked in tandem, and Tommy and Techno never strayed far from each other, or Wilbur. They made quick work of that section, crossing off every item except for peppers. Once they rejoined, Wilbur made sure they were both with them and they quickly went to the frozen section, grabbing a bag of pre-seasoned spicy chips and a pint of ice cream for them each- Wilbur got birthday cake, Tommy got vanilla, and Techno got brownie batter. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, man, you’re so fucking boring.” Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I- wha- hey, no I’m not!” He stuttered, glaring at the older man.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Vanilla is literally the most basic flavor you can get. There’s nothing to it!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You bitch, I got French vanilla, not plain vanilla, there is a difference.” He said, showing off the pint of ice cream.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, that says vanilla, not French vanilla.” Techno deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it is-” Tommy flipped it around to see it was only plain vanilla. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy turned back around to the freezer, and swapped out the plain vanilla for French vanilla ice cream.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Now it’s French vanilla!” He boasted, and Techno and Wilbur started laughing hysterically. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy began cackling and threw the pint into the buggy, and they continued traversing through the store until they got to the snacks. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, this is going to last you about a week, so pick out a reasonable amount.” Wilbur warned and he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy immediately grabbed Oreos, some Ritz crackers, and some Walkers and went back to Wilbur, who was grabbing Golden Oreos. Tommy dumped his snacks into the cart and grinned at Techno who picked up the bag of Walkers in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are Walkers? We don’t have these in the US.” Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re crisps, man.” Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Crisps? Oh right, you guys call chips crisps and fries chips. That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you Americans are the weird ones calling your foods and things weird names.” Tommy said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno rolled his eyes. “I don’t take shit from people under 18, they don’t have rights.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you bitch, fuck you! Dad- Wil-, are you hearing this shit? Techno’s fucking bullying me!” Tommy whined.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno leave the child alone; you can bully him when we’re not in a packed grocery store. Besides, he’s right, Americans name things weirdly.” Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but Wil, it’s always time to bully the child.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bug off, we need to go to the meat section. Stay close.” Wilbur said, walking out of the aisle to the meat section of the store.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno and Tommy followed him, staying close by. But as they walked by the cereal aisle Tommy noticed a box of a brand-new cereal he’d never seen before. He paused, forgetting he was supposed to be staying close, and picked up the box.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Minecraft Creeper cereal…” He murmured, flipping the box around the look at the back. “Who the hell would get this? Hey guys look at this-” Tommy turned around to see his family was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay this is fine,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll just go look for them. They went to the meat section, right? Wait, where’s the meat aisle…” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy began walking to where he believed the meat was, weaving through a large crowd, cereal box in hand. As he noticed the sign for the meat, he was shoved and tripped by someone in the ground. He tried to catch himself, throwing the box out of his hands to catch himself. He ended up scraping his hands and nearly falling flat on his face. He heard some shouts and arms helping him up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, son, up we go.” A kind voice said, and he looked up to see a middle-aged lady helping him up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, ma’am!” He said, looking for his box of cereal.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when he heard the crying, and saw a lady storming up to him, the box of cereal in one hand and a small crying toddler in another. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me? Is this your son?” She asked the lady that helped him up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I-” She said, but was cut off by the lady.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Young man, where are your parents!” She furiously yelled, causing a crowd to form.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I don’t know, I got lost and I don’t know where my dad went.” He said, confused. What did he do?</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would like them to know how much of a rude child they raised! Throwing a box of cereal at my son!” She yelled, shaking the box of cereal in his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he didn’t mean to do that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I got tripped and the box flew out of my hand. I can text my dad to see where he is.” He apologized, pulling out his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I want you to put that damn phone away and apologize to my son!” She yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He put the phone down, trying not to anger the lady further. Damn, she reminded him of his birth mom. He bent down to the kid’s level and began to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, kiddo, I’m sorry for hitting you. I didn’t mean to hit you, big man.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The kid keeps crying, and he looks up at the mother who’s looking at him expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" He asked, confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What else could he fucking do? The kid was inconsolable, and definitely didn’t want </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You think </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a good apology? We both know- we</span>
  <em>
    <span> all</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that was fucking phony!" She yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What." </span>
  </em>
  <span>He said, panic enveloping him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You purposely hit my son, you insignificant little shit! You think someone as </span>
  <em>
    <span>worthless </span>
  </em>
  <span>as you could get away with hitting my son? I will fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sue </span>
  </em>
  <span>you!"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"worthless…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her words were like ice cold water being splashed on him, setting his nerves on fire. He stayed kneeled in front of the kid, frozen in place. The ice water invaded his lungs, and he struggled to breathe in the sea of eyes surrounding him. He should be used to the cold by now, but he still feels it overwhelming him every time it comes onto him. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"worthless…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There are people shouting at the lady, and he desperately covers his ears to block it out. He feels so alive and yet as if he were never real in the first place. It's all too </span>
  <em>
    <span>much. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>scream </span>
  </em>
  <span>when arms reach out to touch him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>to grab him,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he scurries back, slamming into a pair of legs. He looks up to see the familiar brown curls of his father's soft hair.  Brown eyes swirl with worry and poorly hidden anger.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"worthless…"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Tommy, firecracker, are you alright?" Wilbur says, and Tommy feels his big headspace crackle apart as if flames were consuming it.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Papa?" He asks, and his throat feels sore. Why was it sore?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Honeybun, Papa is here now. Come here, I've got you." Wilbur says, bending down to hold him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy holds him tight, and sobs into Wilbur's shoulder, finally feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. He sobs, and sobs, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sobs. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That lady was so horrid, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar </span>
  </em>
  <span>to his own mother. It was like looking through the rounded part of a spoon, warped but still grounded in reality. He tried to grasp the reality he so needed but it slipped through clumsy hands and a younger mind. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Papa-" He hiccups. "I wanna go home." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, baby." His father whispers. "We'll go home."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And they did. After getting the hell away from that lady, Tommy was seated in the back of the cart. Wilbur quickly grabbed some flour and milk, which was something he really needed, or else he wouldn't have gotten it. He had to get it now because Tommy's going to need him at home later. They made their way to the check out and Wilbur smiled softly at Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, baby, how 'bout you grab a candy bar? Whatever you want." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Reawwy?" He asked, looking up at Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhmm. Don't be worried about it, go grab a treat. You deserve it."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy gazed at the selection in front of him, his brain overloaded with the choice.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhm, Papa, I dunno w'at I want." He said nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"That's alright, hun. Do you want something nutty?" Tommy shook his head. "Alright. With Chocolate?" Tommy nodded excitedly. "Of course, a good choice. Do you want nougat?" A nod. "How about caramel?" Again, a nod. "How about a Mars Bar?" Tommy paused, but eventually agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes p'ease." He shyly said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Awww of course, firecracker."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur picked up a Mars Bar and put it on the belt with their other things that Techno had been unloading. Techno looked down at the bar and then looked back up at Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"What's a Mars Bar?" Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, it's nougat and caramel coated in chocolate. You don't have that in the states?" Wilbur explained.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, no, we do. We just call it a Milky Way."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Dat's a cool name." Tommy said quietly, picking at his shirt's hem.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"It is, Tommy." Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually it was their turn, and they got their bags and paid. Techno and Wilbur helped him out of the cart. The adults carried the majority of the bags, while Tommy carried a couple of light bags. He also ate his Mars Bar and giggled when the caramel drooped in a silly way.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur held his free hand, and kept him from straying too far. But that was an uphill battle, as little Tommy got distracted by </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A pretty bird? Distracted. A water fountain? Distracted. A soft cow plushie in a toy store's window? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> distracted. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stared in awe of the stuffie, and he immediately knew he wanted it. He looked up to his Papa who noticed what he was staring at.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You like the cow stuffie, Toms?" He asked, and Tommy nodded. "I'll go get him for you, but you gotta be good for Techno, okay?" Tommy nodded, even more excited. "Alright, I'll be right back."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur left, and Tommy looked at Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi Techie!" Tommy said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi, Tommy." Techno replied, softly smiling at the little.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi!" </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy giggled. "Hi!"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"We're just gonna keep doing this?" Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy giggles again, nodding. "Hi."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno chuckled. "Hi, silly boy."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Silly!" Tommy exclaims.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, you're a very silly boy." Techno affirmed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy giggles and sways back and forth in place.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You're definitely feeling better, baby."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhm!" Why was he even upset in the first place?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm back, and look what I got!" Wilbur says, holding out the stuffed cow.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"C-ow!" Tommy shook his hands in excitement, forgetting about the bags in one of his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy reached for her, and Wilbur gently and carefully checked his hands to make sure he didn't have any candy on them before giving him the toy. Tommy squealed in excitement, and didn't even notice when Wilbur took the wrapper and bags out of his hand. The cow was white with brown spots and two long horns on the top of her head pointing away from the sides of her head. She was incredibly fluffy and soft, and he squeezed her tight. She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You like them, Toms?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhm! T'ank you, Papa!"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur carded a hand through Tommy's hair, gently fixing some knots. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You're welcome, firecracker. Now, let's go home, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Okie!"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy walked alongside the two men, playing with his new toy. He held his free hand in Wilbur’s, so he didn't wander off.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"What're you going to name them, Toms?" Techno asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmmm... Eliza!" He proclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Eliza? Why Eliza?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Eliza Ham’ton, Papa!” He whined.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Eliza was the best, and her name was similar to the Queen’s!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, of course, how could I not see it!” Wilbur exclaimed, smiling at him and Eliza.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a good name, kiddo." Techno said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy yawned.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Aww, feeling sleepy, baby? Don't worry, we're almost home." Wilbur gently said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out, Wilbur was right, and they were just around the corner from home. They ushered Tommy upstairs for a nap. Tommy, of course, took Eliza with him and fell asleep quickly. Now, it's been a few weeks since then, and the stuff for his room has finally come! </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After the three of them, plus Phil and Kristin, put together his bed frame, they helped him get his mattress on the frame and put his sheets on. After a quick break for lunch, they helped him put some things he ordered online onto his walls. Namely, LED light strips, which were surprisingly a hassle to put on. Eventually, from Phil reading the instructions, and Wilbur nearly tearing his hair out, they got on. He put his old photo frames and posters on too! The final thing was sticky strips onto the ceiling so he could hang something from the hooks on the strips. That thing was a print for 3d paper Minecraft cows, which was a suggestion from Tubbo who thought it was cool.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I have hanging bees,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Tubbo had said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"We could match then! Cows and bees."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>So, Tommy made them, with the help from the others and a fucking metric </span>
  <em>
    <span>ton</span>
  </em>
  <span> of scotch tape. But they were made, and not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> warped, and were hung on his ceiling. After those were done, they brought in his furniture and placed it accordingly. They also helped him set up his pc on his desk, including The Speedrunmobile! By the time they were done, it was dinner, and they ordered take out and called it a night.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Before Phil and Kristin left, they handed him a small bag. When he looked inside, there were two plushies. One, of a Minecraft bee, and the other of an enderman. He ran his hand over the plushies to find they were incredibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Wilbur told us you like plushies so we got you a couple." Kristin said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You… why?" Tommy looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Because we wanted to?" Phil asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I've never gotten something just because… Thank you." Tommy hugged them both, and they hugged back.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You're welcome, Toms." Phil said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"We love you, kiddo. We gotta spoil you a little bit." Kristin said, ruffling his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to…" </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"We want to."  Phil said, placing a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked back down into the bag, and smiled at the soft toys. They were his, and they were his just because Phil and Kristin wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, seriously." Tommy said, looking back up at the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Anytime, Toms." Kristin said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They said their goodbyes, and once the three waved the couple off, Wilbur turned to Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I have a surprise for you, Tommy. Come with me." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha-" </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Shhh. No questions, just follow." Wilbur said with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked to Techno, who gave him a knowing smirk. Tommy sighed, but followed Wilbur into his room. Wilbur grabbed a purple shoebox from under his bed, and took off the lid that had Tommy's name scrawled in light blue. Inside were photos, and lots of them. Pictures from visits from Tubbo, visits from Phil and Kristin, Techno surprising him the court, and more.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I've been taking a lot of photos since you got here, and even before you became my son. I've kept them all on my phone, but I wanted them more physical, so I printed them out and put them in this box. I have copies for myself, but I made some for you and some for Techno. Do you want them? I thought you could make a collage on your wall."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Photos of their first meet up, screenshots of when he won MCC, the group photo they took at the diner.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"If you don't want them, it's okay. I just thought it would be nice."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Christmas photos, new year’s, a photo of them at the arcade… him with Wilbur's arm around his shoulders and a bright smile on his face with the certificate of adoption in his own hands. A picture of the adoption certificate. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>them. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was all his family, all of who he loved. Wilbur cared enough to take photos. He just didn't want memories, he wanted photos that would last a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lifetime. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>cared.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You care." Tommy whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked up at the man, beaming ear to ear. "Nothing don't worry about it, big man. I would love them to be in my room, could you help me put them up?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur smiled at him with adoration and relief in his eyes. "Of course."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And so, they stuck photo after photo onto the wall, until all the photos were up. When Wilbur and Techno bid him goodnight, Tommy looked to the wall of his smiling family and no nightmares came to him in the night.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The next day was slow. They ate breakfast, watched some tv, had lunch, played some Uno, they all took showers and then had dinner. But, after dinner, Wilbur went into his room- he had left his office a little bit ago- and booted up his pc to stream. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You wanna join in?" Wilbur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure." He and Techno had said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As they got ready for the stream, Tommy had an idea. While Tommy was here, he used a greenscreen and only occasionally streamed on Wilbur's setup. But now, he's fully settled in, maybe they should tell the internet about what was going on. After all, he's got his pc back, but he's in a new room. His viewers are getting bored of the greenscreen, and he hates the thing too.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Dad?" He asks, nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur turned around to look at him. "Yeah, Tommy?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to tell the viewers about…" he makes a vague gesture with his hands. "everything."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Everything?" Wilbur asks, pushing his glasses up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Everything."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur takes in a deep breath. "Alright, what do you want them to know?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Just that… just that I'm fine, we're safe, but I'm no longer living with Mother and Father Innit. That I'm living with you." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, that's okay. Do you want them to know I'm your dad?" He asks.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy nods. "Yeah, yeah, I really do. I want to be able to call you my dad on stream, of course except when we're doing roleplay and shit. Is that okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur's face softens, and he walks over to Tommy and hugs him. "More than okay. Let's get ready for the stream then, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once they finished getting ready for the stream, and told the Mods and everyone what was going on, Wilbur started streaming and sent out a tweet. Tommy sat beside him, smiling nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The music began and the stream loading screen came up. The two watched it finish and once it finished, face cam began.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello, everyone, welcome to the stream. I'm only going to be doing a couple subs today, because this is a serious stream at first. Thank you for the 9-month sub Cody, 11 months from Nora, 24 months from Ivy- Holy shit, thank you so much Ivy! Yes, chat, Tommy is sitting next to me.” Wilbur read out a message in chat. “‘SBI meetup pog?’ Sort of, yeah. That's actually what we want to talk about. We'll wait a couple more minutes for more people to talk. Anything you want to say, Tommy?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Sub with Twitch Prime or die." He says, very seriously.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You heard the boy, sub with Twitch Prime!" Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Excuse you </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am a </span>
  <em>
    <span>man!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not a fucking boy, a man." Tommy said over him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure you are Toms." </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"What's that supposed to mean, dickhead?!" </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"It means you're a child."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"FUCK YOU, I AM NOT-"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Chat you hearing this absolute fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit?</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck off, Dad. WAIT, FUCK- SHIT-"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“BWAHAHA- YOU DIDN’T JUST SPOIL IT FOR THEM-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“SHUT THE FUCK UP, OLD MAN I WILL KICK YOUR TEETH IN!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“OLD?! I’M TWENTY-FOUR, YOU GREMLING CHILD!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK OFF, BITCH BOY!” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur playfully glared at him. “So much fucking disrespect in this household.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So many damn old people up in my business.” Tommy jokingly sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur rolled his eyes. “Anyways, yeah chat, that's what we want to talk about. After this we’ll have a more fun stream, but this is important.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, after we get all sappy ‘n shit we’ll get back to his-” Tommy playfully jabbed a finger in Wilbur’s direction. “Regularly scheduled bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur pretended to try to bite Tommy’s finger, who screeched and pulled back. “THE FUCK ARE YOU ON?!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Drugs!” Wilbur said cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ayy me too! WAIT TWITCH PLEASE THAT WAS A JOKE I’M NOT ON DRUGS AND NEITHER IS WILBUR-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not, WE are not- Wait why’d you call me Wilbur?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So the execs at Twitch don’t think I’m talking about my sperm donor?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, fair. Now, back to the serious topic. Would you like to start, or should I, Tommy?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy took a deep breath in. “I will. As some of you may know I was bullied a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>for being a twitch streamer. In 2020 it got… physical. In November of 2020, a bit after the November 16th stream I was cornered in a bathroom and beaten up by four guys. Nobody believed me because I was taller than all of them and because they’d placed the blame on me multiple times before. It led to Mother and Father Innit kicking me out. They…” Tommy trailed off, and looked to Wilbur who nodded at him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re okay, you’re safe. I’m so proud of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy blinked the tears in his eyes away. “They weren’t the best parents to begin with, so this was just the cherry on top of everything. Also- please never call them MotherInnit or FatherInnit again since they aren’t my parents. If you talk about them, please refer to them as my birth parents. Luckily, Wilbur took me in, and we’ve been living together since then. About four days ago, we won our court case and Wilbur is now my legal guardian and father. I’ve always joked about him being my brother on stream, but off stream it always wasn’t like that. For a while, it was. But it started to change and now I call Wilbur my Dad. I’m going to be calling him my dad on non-dream smp or lore streams. Also, I’m going to get that god-awful greenscreen out of my room since you all know what’s going on now. Anything you want to add, Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I now am legally obliged to share embarrassing stories of you on the internet. Hey chat, you want to hear about what happened after we got a celebratory dinner on court night?” Wilbur jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“DAD, NO- THIS IS FUCKING BLASPHEMY!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know what blasphemy fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>means</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“YES, IT MEANS FUCK YOU, OLD MAN!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’M NOT FUCKING OLD!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Chat was going by a mile a minute, hearts, pogs, and positive messages were zooming by. The mods, which included their regular mods and a lot of their friends, were trying their best to make sure no negative messages got through. As he and Wilbur roughhoused, Tommy paid no mind to the chat, even if they were positive. It was overwhelming, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it right now.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, mods, please put on emote only!” Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The chat went to emote only, and Tommy watched thousands of hearts and pog emotes go by. It was so good to see. Suddenly, Wilbur got a call on discord, and they saw it was Phil and they answered.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Ello mates. I just wanted to pop in to say I’m proud of you both.” The older male said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Dadza! It’s good to hear from you, man.” Wilbur said, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur, we just saw you and Tommy.” Phil said, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking and, big man?” Tommy shouted, laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Phil laughed. “Whatever, Tommy. Anyways, can’t believe you guys just fucked up the SBI Dynamic.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy laughed even harder. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait since I call you Dadza, and Tommy’s my son, doesn’t that make you Tommy’s granddad?” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, oh fuck, I’M NOT THAT OLD-” Phil yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy mischievously grinned. “What’s wrong Grandza? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah Grandza? What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Phil cracked up. “Oh, my fucking God. This is fucking cursed.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s so fucking weird to call you Grandza, I don’t like that.” Tommy says.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy has two dads now, then.” Wilbur said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno joined the call. “Gee, Tommy, can’t believe Sleepytwt let you have two dads.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They all cracked up, and after they kept chatting. A couple other people including Tubbo and Ranboo joined to congratulate them. The stream was about an hour and a half in total, and they signed off and ended up talking with Phil, Techno, Tubbo, and Ranboo.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys, have you checked twitter yet?” Ranboo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why- OH SHIT YOU GUYS ARE NUMBER ONE TRENDING.” Tubbo yelled, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur minimized Discord and opened twitter to go to the trending page. Turns out they actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trending #1.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>1.• Minecraft YouTubers • Trending</span>
</p><p>
  <b>#Dadbur</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Streamers Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit announced that Wilbur adopted Tommy, and is now Tommy’s dad. Congratulations!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>2.• Minecraft YouTubers • Trending</span>
</p><p>
  <b>WILBUR</b>
</p><p><em><span>Trending with </span></em><em><span>ADOPTED,</span></em> <em><span>TOMMY</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>3.• Minecraft YouTubers • Trending </span>
</p><p>
  <b>TOMMY</b>
</p><p><em><span>Trending with </span></em><em><span>ADOPTED,</span></em> <em><span>WILBUR</span></em></p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>4.• Minecraft YouTubers • Trending</span>
</p><p>
  <b>#Grandza</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Streamers TommyInnit, Ph1lzA, and Wilbur Soot joke that Ph1lzA is now Tommy’s grandfather because Wilbur adopted Tommy.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>5.• Minecraft YouTubers • Trending</span>
</p><p>
  <b>SBI DYNAMIC</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy cackled at the screen, but also felt his heart feel impossibly warm. It was so nice to see the mcyttwt community being so supportive and excited. Things had been rough lately, with the stress of being adopted, and some shitty antis attacking the community, so it was so nice to see some positive messages. He looked over to Wilbur who was tearing up. Is he okay? Is something wrong?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wilbur wipes away a tear. “Tommy, man, I’m more than fine. I’m so fucking happy. I’m so happy to be your dad, that you’re my son. That everyone is accepting and excited. I’m happy that you’re okay. I love you so much, firecracker. You’re my boy and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy felt tears water up, and he tried his hardest to push them back but to no avail. “I wouldn’t change anything either, Dad. I really wouldn’t.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How we feeling, guys? Last chapter before the big ol' angst. :) I gave you MAJOR fluff today </p><p>Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! If you leave a comment and some kudos it would be GREATLY appreciated! Have a nice day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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